


Stand and Deliver

by hayj



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:55:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 34,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27977700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hayj/pseuds/hayj
Summary: Injured Naval Officer Sebastian Monroe is coerced into finishing his recuperation at the estate of his childhood friend, Miles Matheson. Before long, he finds himself wrapped up in the ridiculous conspiracy theory of his host's annoying niece.
Relationships: Charlie Matheson/Bass Monroe
Comments: 10
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter 1

Bass knew he was scowling, but frankly, he didn’t care. He was miserable and wanted everyone to know it. He’d been forced to attend the ball his younger sister and her husband, the Marquess, were holding in honor of his return to society.

His scowl deepened as he leaned his shoulder against the column in the lavish ballroom, watching as men and women made fools of themselves as they danced the cotillion.

They were dancing the night away while their countrymen were dying on the Peninsula and in America. Oh, how he wished he were still in the thick of the fight! But, he had been relieved of duty, honorably discharged, and thanked for his service. The Admiral had cited the loss of vision in his left eye as the reason he was unfit for service.

Bass adjusted the black eye patch. His vision wasn’t completely gone in that eye, but he couldn’t seem to get it to focus. The doctor recommended keeping it covered until his eye healed. If his eye healed. Bass had serious reservations about that. It had already been two months and he’d seen no change in his vision, and when he attempted to go without his eye patch, he developed terrible headaches.

He reached out and nabbed a glass of champagne from a passing servant. At least he could drink and forget this night ever happened. 

He watched as a few women bravely glanced his way, but they always averted their gaze when he caught their eye. There were no coy looks; only ones laced with pity and disgust. It mattered not, he told himself. He had no intention of dancing this evening, with any woman. He was just biding his time until he could leave this tiresome ball.

His friend Miles, the Duke of Strathearn, approached him, squeezing his way through the hordes of people. “I’ve come to inform you that your scowl is frightening the ladies.”

“Go to the devil,” Bass muttered, tightening his grip on the glass in his hand.

Miles grinned. “No, thank you. Why the frown?” he asked, looking out over the masses.

“I don’t want to be here.”

Miles bobbed his head. “Yes, I see. That’s certainly a dilemma since Jeremy is hosting this ball in your honor.”

“I never asked for a ball.”

“And yet, you got one,” his friend replied in amusement.

Bass tugged at his jabot. “Balls are frivolous.”

“Balls are enjoyable,” Miles countered, “especially when you dance with a pretty lady.”

Bass huffed. “I don’t dance.”

Miles shook his head. “That’s not a true statement, my friend. You used to attend balls every time you were on holiday from the Royal Navy. As I recall, you danced nearly every set."

“Times have changed.”

“That they have,” Miles replied, turning to face him.  “Have you considered my offer to join me when I travel to my estate in Sylvania ?”

“I have and my answer is no.”

“I think you should reconsider,” Miles replied. “I only plan to be there for a fortnight.”

“My answer is still no.”

“Pray tell, what pressing problems are keeping you in London?” Miles asked.

Bass didn’t have an answer. He had no foreseeable engagements, nor did he want any. The truth was, he spent the majority of his time in his bedchamber alone. That’s how he preferred it. 

Before he could turn down his friend's offer again, his brother-in-law and sister approached them.

“Why aren’t you dancing, Bass,” Jeremy asked.

Bass frowned. “I don’t see the point.”

Not deterred by his lack of enthusiasm, Jeremy continued. “Cynthia and I just finished the cotillion.”

“Good for you,” Bass muttered.

Ignoring his response, Cynthia turned her attention towards Miles. “How are  you  enjoying the ball?”

“Quite well,” Miles answered, “I’ve already secured Lady Nora for the dinner dance.”

A smile came to Cynthia’s lips. “Lady Nora is a lovely choice.”

“I thought so as well,” Miles replied.

Another servant walked by with a tray of champagne glasses. Bass traded in his empty glass for a full one. He downed the drink with one swallow setting the empty glass back on the tray.

“Careful, Bass,” Jeremy warned. “You don’t want to become inebriated at your own ball.”

“Does it matter?” he asked.

Jeremy gave him a disapproving look. "Cynthia worked hard to prepare this ball for you. You could at least attempt to enjoy it.”

“I never asked for a ball. I never asked for any of this!”

Hurt flashed in Cynthia’s eyes as she slipped her hand from Jeremy’s arm. “If you’ll excuse me, I believe I just heard a friend being announced.”

“Cynthia, wait,” Bass said, feeling a twinge of guilt for his rudeness. “I’m sorry for being so cranky. You truly outdid yourself planning this ball.”

Cynthia gave him a weak smile. “Thank you for that Bass,” she murmured before disappearing into the crowd.

Jeremy watched his wife walk away before he turned his furious gaze back towards Bass. “I should challenge you to a duel for insulting my wife.”

“I didn’t mean to insult her,” Bass replied. “Besides, I believe I made my intentions known before you insisted that I needed a ball to reenter society.”

“Be that as it may-“

Bass shook his head angrily. “I have no intention of enjoying this ball, Jeremy.”

“Why not?” Jeremy questioned. “Are you so opposed to having fun?”

“I’m still attempting to convince Bass to join me for a holiday at my estate in Sylvania,” Miles commented.

“You should go,” Jeremy said decisively.

“No,” Bass replied. “I have no desire to go .”

Jeremy sighed. “I think it would be good for you.”

“And why is that?”

Jeremy lowered his voice. “Because you’ve been sulking around the townhouse for over a month. You haven’t even visited the gardens.”

“I have not been sulking,” Bass defended, crossing his arms over his chest. “I just saw no reason to tarry outside. Besides, I prefer to be alone.”

“It’s not good to spend so much time alone. You could have joined Cynthia and me for the theatre or any other social event we attended this past month.”

“What’s the point?” Bass asked.

Miles glanced at Jeremy, the frustration evident on his features. “The point is to enjoy oneself. To be entertained.”

“I’ll pass,” Bass remarked dryly. “There’s a war being waged in Europe, a deadly skirmish in America, and no one is giving them any heed.”

“That’s not true, Bass. Many people in this room have family members fighting in one war or the other.”

As Bass opened his mouth to argue with his brother-in-law, the commanding voice of Frances Blanchard , the Duke of Albemarle spoke first.

“May I speak to you for a moment, Bass?” the man asked with a frown. 

Bass gave a curt nod, following the older man out the French doors and onto the veranda.

“You're a hard man to talk to,” Frank announced as he turned to face him. “You’ve turned me away the last few times I’ve come to call.”

“I’ve been busy,”

Frank gave him a look that indicated he clearly didn’t believe him. “I've decided you need a holiday, so you’ll be leaving with Miles."

“I beg your pardon?” Bass asked with a lift of his brow.

“Bass, you’ve lost a part of yourself and you need to discover it again.”

Bass snorted. “And you think I’ll find it in Sylvania?”

“I don't know, however, it’s evident you're not finding it in London.” 

Bass turned to look out over the gardens. “Probably because I don’t want to be here, Frank. I want to be back with my crew, fighting alongside them.”

“I understand that, but you were discharged due to your injury.”

“I only need one eye to fight,” Bass spat.

Frank chuckled. “I'm inclined to believe you.”

“Look at them,” Bass said, turning back towards the ballroom. “Those people have no idea what we sacrifice to ensure their freedoms.”

“Yes, they are blissfully unaware,” he agreed. “But that doesn't mean they don't appreciate everything that our troops have done for them,” he continued, gently placing a hand on Bass’ shoulder. “Go to Sylvania with Miles,” he encouraged. “Take the time to reflect on what you truly want out of life.”

“I want to fight,” Bass huffed. 

“It’s time to find a new purpose.”

“There’s no point. My life is over.”

“Why do you say that?” Frank asked

“Without my military career, I'm nothing.”

"It may seem that way, but you must not give up."

“That is easy for you to say.”

Frank took a step back, his voice laced with understanding. “I was practically dragged off my ship and forced into retirement by the Navy Board. If I had my way, I would still be captain of my own ship.”

Bass turned to face him. “I look like a pirate,” he said, pointing towards his eye patch. “Everyone looks at me with either disgust or pity.”

“Let them look,” Frank boomed. “That eye patch proves you are a hero.”

“A hero?” Bass scoffed. “I hardly think so. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“I see a hero,” Frank replied, “but it doesn’t matter what I see. It only matters what you believe.”

“The only thing I see is a cripple.” 

“Are you not alive?”

“I don’t want to be.”

Frank frowned and was about to reply when Miles’ voice came from the doorway. “Has he agreed to go to Sylvania yet?

Frank nodded. “He has.”

“I have?” Bass questioned.

Frank gave him a stern look that brooked no argument. “You have.”

"Very good,” Miles replied with a grin. 

“You're all idiots,” Bass mumbled, walking down the footpath into the gardens. He wanted to be alone. London or Sylvania, nothing would change. He was still disabled. He was still a failure.

* * *

After two days in the saddle, Bass was relieved when a sprawling estate appeared in the distance. He kicked his horse into a run and didn’t stop until he arrived in the paved courtyard.

Miles reigned in his horse next to him. “Welcome to Matheson Manor.”

“Impressive,” Bass praised.

Miles' eyes roamed the estate with pride. “It is. It took nearly a hundred years to complete the house along with the gardens overlooking the ocean.”

Bass nodded but didn’t say anything. Despite his relief at having arrived, he still resented being here in the first place.

A footman exited the house and waited while they dismounted their horses. As he led their horses away, Miles waved Bass towards the main door. “Come. Allow me to introduce my mother and niece.”

Bass stifled a groan as he overheard Miles introducing him to the butler. He wasn’t in the mood to exchange pleasantries. He was tired from the journey and wanted nothing more than to adjourn to his bedchamber. Perhaps he could find the drink cart on the way and attempt to forget that he was being forced to spend the next two weeks here.

“Are my mother and Charlie in the drawing-room?” Miles asked the butler as he handed his riding gloves to the man.

“Your mother is but Miss Charlotte is on the east lawn.”

Miles looked displeased as he stepped further into the entry hall. “Is she practicing her archery again?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“I see,” Miles replied. “Will you send a footman to inform her of my arrival?’

The butler bobbed his head. “Yes, Milord.”

“I'm afraid my niece is rather consumed with archery,” Miles explained, turning back towards Bass.

“Is that so?” Bass asked, not in the least interested how his friend's niece spent her time.

Miles nodded. “It appears as though her obsession has intensified over the past year.”

“She must be rather good.”

“She is,” Miles admitted, ‘but that won’t help her on the marriage mart.”

Bass scoffed. “Marriage Mart. What a waste of time.”

Miles lifted a brow. “You have no desire to marry?”

“No,” Bass was quick to reply.

Miles frowned. “Then you and my niece have something in common. She refuses to go to London for a single season.”

“She does?” Bass asked in surprise. 

Miles turned towards a room off the entry hall. “I can still introduce you to my mother.”

Bass followed Miles into a neatly furnished drawing-room, where a handsome, petite woman rose as they entered the room. Her smile was bright and inviting.

“Miles,” she said, holding her hands out, “you’ve come home.”

Miles hurried over to his mother pulling her into an embrace. “I have, and I brought a friend with me.”

The woman’s kind eyes set Bass at ease. “Lord Sebastian Monroe, allow me to introduce my mother, Lady Strathearn ."

Bass bowed. “It’s a pleasure, Lady Strathearn.”

Miles turned his gaze back towards his mother. “I understand Charlie is on the east lawn again.”

“Oh, you know how she gets,” Lady Strathern remarked with a wave of her hand. 

“I had hoped she would be practicing her needlework with you,” Miles replied.

“She's already finished the handkerchief I assigned her and a lady only needs so many handkerchiefs.”

Miles opened his mouth to speak but another voice filled the room.

“I apologize I wasn’t here to greet you, Uncle.”

Bass turned towards the doorway and found himself smitten, as a beautiful woman walked into the room, her gown a tad dirty and her blonde hair slightly disheveled.

Miles turned towards his niece, hands on his hips. “I understand you’ve been practicing archery up on the east lawn again?”

“That’s correct.” 

Miles sighed. “I thought we discussed this. You can’t spend all your time practicing archery.”

“I don’t,” Charlie replied with a smirk. “I also practice shooting my pistols and throwing daggers.”

Miles pressed his lips together. “Those are hardly appropriate pastimes for a young woman such as yourself.”

Charlie shrugged. “I don’t see why not. I only indulge in those activities after I’ve finished my studies and whichever womanly activity grandmother dictates.”

Lady Strathearn cleared her throat. “Perhaps the two of you could discuss this at another time,” she suggested, glancing over at Bass.

“Yes, of course. Lord Sebastian Monroe, please allow me to introduce my niece, Miss Charlotte Matheson.”

Charlotte turned towards him and Bass expected to see the usual look of pity or disgust at the sight of his eye patch. To his surprise, however, he saw only kindness.

Charlie curtsied. “Lord Monroe, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise, Miss Matheson,” he replied with a bow.

Their gazes met and Bass found himself staring.

Charlie turned back towards Miles. “Would you care to go riding with me?”

Miles shook his head. “I’m afraid not. I’ve been in the saddle all day.” He turned towards Bass. “Would you care to go riding?”

“No. Thank you.”

“I assumed as much.” 

Miles turned back towards his niece. “Be sure to take a few footmen along with you.”

“I only ride on our lands and I’m perfectly capable of protecting myself,” Charlie declared.

“Regardless it’s not safe for you to be riding alone.”

“Since when have I not been safe on your lands?” she asked incredulously. 

Miles straightened to his full height causing her to tilt her head back. “Don’t you dare defy me,” Miles growled in annoyance.

Bass watched as Charlotte's eyes flashed with anger. 

“As you wish, Milord.”

Miles frowned. “You know I hate it when you call me that.” 

“Is there anything else?” Charlie asked heading towards the door.

“No, I’ll see you at dinner."

Without saying another word, Charlie exited the room.

“My apologies. My niece can be rather stubborn.”

Not entirely sure what to say, Bass chose to remain silent. Frankly, he found Charlotte’s directness refreshing. 

“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll make sure that the cook is aware of our guest,” Lady Strathearn announced.

“And I need to go over some ledgers before dinner. Would you like me to show you to your bedchamber first?” Miles asked Bass.

“Yes, please. I’d like to rest after our journey.”

“Of course. You know, I envy you, Bass.”

Bass jerked back. “Envy me?”

“You don’t have a niece to contend with. I do believe Charlie will send me to an early grave,” Miles chuckled.

Bass lifted his brow. “Surely she’s not that bad.”

“Oh, I assure you she is.”

* * *

Dressed in a clean gown, Charlotte Matheson took a deep breath before knocking at the door of her uncle's study and letting herself in.

Her uncle was at his desk, head down as he wrote in his ledger.

“Grandmother said you wished to speak with me."

Miles rose from his chair. “Yes, please come in,” he replied, pointing at the chair in front of his desk.

Charlie sat down, keeping her back rigid. 

Miles lowered himself back into his chair and smiled at her. “How have you been, Charlie?’

“I’m well, thank you.”

“And your studies?”

Charlie clasped her hands in front of her. “I’m nineteen. Requiring me to study every day is rather insulting.”

“Until you go to London for the season, I feel it’s in your best interest to continue to learn and grow.”

Charlie smirked. “I couldn’t agree more, which is why I’ve started learning physics and logic.”

Miles frowned. “Those are hardly appropriate subjects for a woman of your station.”

“I disagree. I believe it’s much more beneficial than embroidering a handkerchief.”

Miles threaded his fingers together and placed them on the desk. “I would like you to accompany me to London after I’ve concluded my work here at Matheson Manor. You need to have a season.”

“No. Thank you.”

Ignoring her refusal, Miles pressed on. “Mother will join us as well.”

“Miles, I would prefer not to go to London.”

Miles sighed. “Your aversion to marrying is getting rather old.”

“I’m only nineteen. I’m much too young to consider marriage.”

“That’s not true. Your grandmother was only eighteen when she married.”

Charlie rose from her chair and walked to the window. “I have no desire to go to London and participate in the marriage mart. Besides I can’t leave Sylvania right now.”

“Why?”

“You know why,” she replied, looking out over the gardens.

“Please say that you're not referring to the smugglers.”

Charlie spun around to face him. “Someone needs to stop them.”

“That someone is not you, Charlie!” Miles declared. “You have to stop with this obsession!”

“How can you say that to me?” she demanded. “Those smugglers killed Danny.”

“No,” Miles replied, shaking his head. “Danny died when he went for a late-night swim.”

Charlie gasped. “You can’t possibly believe that! Danny was an excellent swimmer. Besides, why would he go swimming at night? It doesn’t make any sense.”

Miles gave her a look filled with pity. “I know you want to blame someone for Danny’s death, but it was just a tragic accident, Charlie. You need to let this go and start healing.”

“I can’t. Not when I know that smugglers are still coming ashore here.”

“You’re spouting nonsense,” Charlie. “There are no smugglers on our shores. Danny loved you very much, and he wanted what was best for you,” Miles said as he rose from his chair. “So do I. I want to ensure that you’re being taken care of.”

“No, you want me to marry so I’ll become someone else's problem.”

Miles sighed softly as he came around his desk. “You’re an heiress, Charlie. The only daughter of Lord Benjamin Matheson. You don’t have to marry, but do you truly wish to become a spinster?”

Charlie looked up meeting his gaze. “I don’t know what I want, but I refuse to enter a marriage of convenience.”

“Nor would I expect you to,” Miles replied, “which is why I propose a different arrangement.”

“I’m listening.”

Miles stepped back to lean against his desk. “I will be here for a fortnight on business. During this time I encourage you to seek proof that smugglers are coming ashore here in Silvania. However, after the two weeks are up, you will not speak of the smugglers ever again and you will accompany me to London where your grandmother will host a ball in your honor.”

Charlie thought for a moment. “What if I find proof?"

“Then we shall go report your findings to the constable. Do we have a deal?’

Charlie nodded. “On one condition.”

“Which is?’

“I’m free to come and go from the estate without an escort while gathering proof.”

Miles shook his head. “Absolutely not.” 

“Then I’m not going to London,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

Miles pressed his lips together as he studied her. “Fine, but I must insist you use caution. No unnecessary risks.”

Charlie lowered her arms. “I can agree to that.”

“See, I am not completely heartless,” Miles smiled.

Charlie smiled back. “I know.”

“On a separate note, please be patient with my friend,” Miles requested as he stood.

The image of Lord Sebastian Monroe came to her mind. He was a handsome man, not as tall as her uncle, but with broad shoulders and pleasant features. He had a commanding presence about him that indicated he was not a man to be trifled with. However, it was his eye that intrigued her. It was filled with pain and heartache. What had he experienced to have caused him such anguish?

“May I ask why?"

Miles looked away from her. “He is…struggling.”

Charlie gave a small smile. “Aren’t we all?”

“Bass is in a dark place right now,” Miles admitted, looking back towards her. “He’s trying to find himself.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,”

“Just be kind, please,” Miles replied.

“Is Lord Monroe a pirate?” Charlie asked, lowering her voice.

Miles snorted. “No, he is not a pirate.”

“But he’s wearing an eye patch," she teased.

Miles turned serious once more. “He injured his eye while serving in the Royal Navy.”

Charlie smiled. “That’s too bad. The eye patch gives him an air of danger.” 

Miles pinched the bridge of his nose. “Perhaps it would be best if you just don’t speak to Lord Monroe.”

Charlie smirked. “I’ll behave, Uncle, promise.”

Miles looked unconvinced. “See that you do.”


	2. Chapter 2

With an empty glass in his hand, Bass sat alone in his darkened bedchamber. The sun had set and he was waiting for the dinner bell to ring.

Sitting alone in the dark reminded him of how truly alone he was in the world and how empty he felt inside.

He stared at the eye patch lying across his knee that marked him as a failure.

Hearing the faint sound of the bell, he crumpled the fabric in his fist and rose. 

He had no desire to converse with Miles or his family over dinner. Frankly, he had no desire to mingle with anyone. He just wanted to be left alone.

As he turned the corner down the hall from his room, something collided with him. Something that smelled delightfully like rosewater. Lady Charlotte Matheson. He immediately put his hands on her shoulders to steady her.

“My apologies, Lord Monroe,” Charlie exclaimed as she took a step back. “I’m afraid I was preoccupied.”

Bass dropped his hands as if she were on fire. “No harm done.”

Charlie smoothed down the front of her gown. “Would you like me to escort you to the drawing-room?”

“That’s not necessary.”

“I only ask because Matheson Manor has two different drawing and dining rooms. I wasn’t sure if Miles told you which was which.”

Bass sighed. “He did not.”

Charlie gestured towards the stairs. “Shall we?”

“I suppose so,” Bass replied, extending his arm. He didn’t want to escort her, but it was the polite thing to do.

Charlie gave him a knowing look. “It’s not necessary to escort me. I’m perfectly capable of walking on my own.”

Bass eyed her curiously, wondering how she was able to read his mind. “It would be my honor, Miss Matheson.”

Giving him a knowing smile, Charlie stepped closer and placed her hand on his arm. “Thank you, Lord Monroe.”

“Did you enjoy the nice weather we had this afternoon?” She asked as they made their way down the stairs.

Bass’ eye twitched. He hated inane chit chat.

“I did,” he replied. “Did you?”

Charlie nodded. “It was delightful. I spent the afternoon riding my horse in the surrounding fields.”

“There are few things better than riding.”

Charlie hummed. “I’m afraid I find this conversation dreadfully dull,” she replied with a small smile in his direction.

Bass almost smiled himself.

“My uncle tells me that you served in the Royal Navy.”

“I did” Bass replied curtly, having no desire to discuss it.

To his relief, she remained silent and they entered the drawing-room a moment later. 

Miles was waiting to greet them. “Evening, Bass,” he said, his eyes moving between them. “Did you have a pleasant afternoon sitting alone in your room?’

Bass nodded. “I did. It was very uneventful.”

“I can only imagine,” Miles replied dryly.

Charlie removed her hand from Bass’ and stepped away as Miles turned to her. “Thank you for escorting Bass down to the drawing-room.”

Charlie gave Bass an amused glance. “I found him wandering the halls and took pity upon him.”

“Is that so?” Miles asked with a raised brow.

Bass frowned. “No, it is not.” 

Charlie smirked. “I ran into him in the hall. Literally. We collided as I left the library.”

Miles shook his head. “You must be careful. A lady should always carry herself with decorum and grace.”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “Yes, Uncle.”

“I’m serious,” Miles insisted. “If you had collided with a gentleman in London, there could have been serious consequences.”

“Meaning?”

“I’ve seen people compelled to marry for less.”

Charlie’s eyes widened. “Are you saying that I could be forced to marry someone just for running into them?”

Miles nodded. “Yes!”

Charlie scoffed. “That’s ridiculous. I would refuse to marry someone for such a silly reason.”

“Then you would become an outcast.”

Charlie shrugged unconcernedly. “If I do marry, it will be for love.”

This time, it was Bass’ turn to scoff. 

Charlie turned towards him. “I take it you don’t believe in love matches.”

“They exist but are rare. Eventually, you’ll realize that mutual toleration is the best most people can achieve in a marriage.”

“Mutual toleration?” Charlie repeated. “Surely you don’t believe that.”

“Actually, I do,” he replied, heading across the room to the drink cart to pour himself a generous drink. Tossing it back, he poured another.

Approaching him, Miles reached for the decanter and poured himself a drink. “I’m meeting with some of my tenants tomorrow. Would you care to join me?”

“Why?” Bass asked, taking a sip from his glass.

“One day you’ll be expected to take over your father's estate. Perhaps in the meantime, you’d like to buy your own.”

“Pass.”

“You can’t keep going as you are, Bass.”

“How so?”

Miles looked down at the cup in his hand. “For starters, you're drinking too much.”

“Am not,” Bass replied sullenly.

Miles rolled his eyes. “I've seen you drink brandy with your breakfast.”

“My drinking habits are none of your business,” Bass snapped.

Miles placed a calming hand on his friend's shoulder. “Come with me to the meeting. You might find that you like it.”

“Fine, if it means that much to you.”

Miles removed his hand. “Thank you.”

Bass simply grunted.

* * *

The moon was high as Charlie crept along the shoreline. With a longbow in her right hand and a quiver attached to her back, she searched for any signs of the smugglers. However, so far there’d been no sign of them.

Sitting down on a rock she looked out over the ocean listening to the waves crash on the shore. Her shoulders slumped as if the burdens she carried overwhelmed her.

“What am I doing?” she muttered to herself.

Here she was sitting alone on the beach in the middle of the night, wearing trousers and a pair of Hessian boots. Hardly the attire of a lady, but she only had a fortnight to find proof of the smugglers before being forced to London.

Rising from the rock, she dusted off her trousers. Another night wasted. It was time to sneak back into the manor house. Making her way up the footpath that ran along the cliff near the estate, she made her way through the gardens, hurrying towards the servant’s entrance, but it was locked.

The servant’s entrance was never locked. 

That's why she always exited this way. She glanced up at her window on the second floor but it was closed. There was only one window open and it led to the guest bedchamber. 

Lord Monroe's room. 

She debated on whether or not she could climb up to his bedchamber and sneak out before he realized she was there. 

Hiding her longbow and quiver in some shrubbery, she began to climb up the side of the manor, reaching the open window in moments. Glancing in, she was grateful that no candle was lit. 

Pulling herself through the window quietly, she could just make out Lord Monroe lying in the large poster bed, snoring softly. Hurrying across the room, she’d just placed her hand on the door handle when she heard the cocking of a pistol.

She froze.

“Who’s there?’ Lord Monroe demanded.

Charlie slowed and turned to face him. “It’s Charlotte, Milord.”

Lord Monroe lowered his pistol to the bed. “Miss Matheson? What are you doing in my bedchamber?’

“I’m so sorry for the intrusion if you’ll excuse me,” she said, turning back towards the door.

Lord Monroe sat up on his bed. “Were you attempting to force me into marriage by breaking into my bedchamber?” he accused.

Charlie spun around with a gasp. “I would never!”

“Well, what am I supposed to think?’ Lord Monroe asked, his voice no longer hushed.

“Shhhh!” Charlie hushed him stepping closer to the bed. “Are you mad?"

Lord Monroe’s brow lifted. “Am I mad? You’re the one in my bedchamber dressed like a boy!”

“These are the clothes I wear when I go to the beach at night,” Charlie hissed.

“It isn’t safe for a young woman to be near the shoreline at this time of night.”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “If you’ll excuse me…” her voice trailed off as she reached for the door handle.

“No.”

“No?”

Lord Monroe removed his covers and placed his feet over the side of the bed. Fortunately, he was wearing a shirt and trousers rather than a nightshirt. “What were you doing down at the beach at this time of night?’

“That would be none of your concern, milord.”

Bass rose to his feet. “You made it my concern when you snuck in through my window.”

“You heard that?”

“I’m surprised the whole manor didn’t hear that.”

“If you must know, the servant’s entrance was locked and I needed another way to enter.”

“And so you chose my room?’ he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Your window was the only one open.”

Bass gave her a look that implied he didn’t believe her before walking over to the window and poking his head out. 

“May I leave now or do you wish to interrogate me further?”

“I actually have a few more questions, such as what you were doing on the beach to begin with?”

“I couldn’t sleep and the crashing waves help soothe me.”

“Try again,” Bass replied dryly.

“I was looking for seashells.”

Bass gave a weary sigh “Do not take me for a fool, Miss.”

“Why do you think I was at the beach?” Charlie asked.

“Were you meeting someone?” He asked pointedly, eyeing her outfit.

“How dare you assume I was having a tryst!” Charlie hissed trying to keep her voice down.

“If you don’t tell me the truth, I’ll march you up to Miles’ room this very second.”

“You wouldn't dare!”

Bass took a step towards her. “Try me,” he growled.

Narrowing her eyes, Charlie pursed her lips. “Fine. I was down at the beach waiting for smugglers to appear.”

“Smugglers?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Smugglers killed my brother and I don’t intend to let them get away with it.”

Bass furrowed his brows. “You’re joking.”

“I'm not,” Charlie continued standing her ground.

“Alright, let's say you found these smugglers. What were you going to do with them.”

“I was going to shoot them with my bow.”

Bass’ mouth dropped open. “You what?”

“I was going to shoot arrows at them,” she replied with a shrug.

Bass inhaled deeply. “You were planning on shooting the smugglers with arrows?”

“Yes!” Charlie exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air now that he seemed to get it.

Bass shook his head. “Any plan is better than that because that is a terrible plan”

Charlie frowned. “I think it’s time I went to bed.”

“I couldn’t agree more, however, we will continue this conversation tomorrow.”

Charlie stepped to the door. “Are you going to tell Miles?”

“Yes.”

Charlie nodded. “I understand.”

Bass met her eyes. “It isn’t appropriate for you to climb into a gentleman's bedchamber, Miss Matheson. The repercussions could have been dire for you. Check the hall before you slip out. We wouldn't want anyone to see you leaving,” he finally finished with a wave of his hand.

“Goodnight,” Charlie said before opening the door. Looking both ways she was relieved to find the hall clear and hurried to her bedchamber.

* * *

Bass raced his horse across the fields as the morning sun began to rise over the ocean.

He had been unable to sleep after Charlotte had left his bedchamber. Such a foolish girl. He couldn’t even count how many ways her plan could have gone terribly, wrong. 

What was she thinking? Didn't she realize how dangerous confronting smugglers would be? 

They would have killed her without the slightest hesitation.

Reigning in his horse near the edge of the cliff, he stared out over the expansive ocean. The rising sun was reflecting off the water as the morning wind caressed his face.

The sound of a horse caused him to turn his head towards the adjacent cliff. 

He saw Charlotte sitting at her horse staring out into the water with a faraway look and took a moment to admire her. She wore a perfectly fitted dark blue riding habit and her hair was pulled back at the base of her neck, a few loose tendrils, fluttering in the ocean breeze. 

With her creamy skin and expressive eyes, Charlotte was breathtaking, but it mattered not. A young woman like her would never accept a cripple like him. 

He meant to turn his horse back towards the manor but instead urged him forward. Charlotte was riding without an escort and the gentlemanly thing to do would be for him to escort her back. While he preferred to ride alone, he would never forgive himself if something happened to her. 

As he reigned in next to her, she turned to face him, her expression unreadable. “Good morning, Lord Monroe. What brings you this far from the manor?”

“I've come to escort you back.”

Charlotte turned her attention back towards the ocean, dismissing him. “That's not necessary. I'm perfectly capable of returning home on my own.”

“I do not doubt that, but I couldn't help notice that you don't have an escort with you,” he stated, attempting to keep the irritation out of his voice.

“I don't require an escort.”

“Every woman requires an escort,” he stated unequivocally.

“Not I, and especially not you,” she replied in frustration. “If you must know, I carry a pistol in my reticule.”

Bass glanced down at the small handbag hanging from her left wrist.

“That will only give you one shot.”

“Trust me,” Charlotte said slowly, turning back to look at him. “I only need one shot.”

“Regardless, it would only be proper for me to escort you home.”

“Suit yourself, Lord Monroe,” Charlotte said, turning her attention back towards the water.

They remained where they were, staring out into the ocean, falling into a comfortable silence. After a long moment, Charlie turns towards him. 

“You've traveled quite a distance from the house. You’re actually on my lands now.”

“Your lands?” he asked in surprise.

She nodded. “They neighbor my uncle's,” she explained pointing towards an estate in the distance. “That is my home.”

“Why don't you reside there?” Bass asked.

"After our parents died, Danny and I came to live with our grandparents and Miles. With Danny gone, there's simply no reason to return.”

“I'm sorry for your loss,” Bass said quietly. 

Charlie gave him a weak smile. “Thank you. I miss Danny every day.”

“May I ask what happened to your parents?”

She arched an eyebrow. “You're asking some rather personal questions.”

“My apologies.” 

Charlie shook her head with a sigh. “No, it’s alright. My mother died during childbirth and my father died shortly thereafter, some say from a broken heart.”

“Again, I'm sorry for your loss,” he said, knowing his words were not sufficient, but Charlie waved him off. 

“It was a long time ago. It was Danny's death that shattered my world.”

Bass turned his gaze from the ocean back to her. “You mentioned smugglers killed him. Why do you suppose that was?”

“It no longer matters,” she replied in a resigned voice. “No one believes me." 

“Are you sure that he didn't go for a late-night swim?”

“I'm positive,” Charlie replied firmly. 

“What does the constable say?”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “That it was an accidental death by drowning.  He didn't believe smugglers had anything to do with his death.”

“Did your brother have any enemies?”

Charlie shook her head. “Everyone loved Danny, including the tenants.”

Bass dreaded asking the next question. “Have you considered that he may have killed himself?”

Charlie's eyes flashed with anger. “No. I have not considered that because Danny would never have killed himself!”

“I apologize for offending you, but I had to ask.”

“Danny would have never intentionally left me."

Bass held up his hands in surrender. “I'm sorry for even bringing it up. What does Miles say about the smugglers?”

“He doesn't believe me,” she said, hurt shining in her eyes . 

“Have you come across any proof that there are smugglers here when you sneak out at night?

“No.”

“And do you always go out before midnight?”

“Yes.” 

“I doubt that smugglers would have a consistent schedule. Have you considered that they may show up in the early morning hours?”

Charlie frowned. “I had not.”

“Charlotte, smugglers are a dangerous lot. They’ll kill you without blinking an eye.”

“Not if I kill them first!” Charlie replied hotly.

Bass shook his head. “You're just a young woman. You couldn't possibly understand the dangers associated with tracking down smugglers.”

“I may only be a woman, but I can fill them with arrows before they even realize they’re under attack. One way or another, I'll make sure my brother's killers are brought to justice.”

“You're a foolish naive girl who’s going to get herself killed.” 

“You have no right to speak to me in such a way!” Charlie gasped.

“Well, someone needs to,” Bass replied. 

“You're starting to sound like Miles.”

“Good! At least someone in your family has some sense.”

“I refuse to sit here and be insulted by you. Good day, Lord Monroe.”

“Miss Matheson,” Bass replied, watching as she turned her horse around and kicked her into a run, racing back towards the manor. 

Bass shook his head. What a foolish girl. 


	3. Chapter 3

Walking into Miles' study, Bass made his way to the drink cart. Taking a stopper off a decanter he poured himself a drink. “I went for a ride early this morning and I saw your niece. You should know that she was alone and unescorted.”

Miles joined him at the drink cart. “Charlie is rather relaxed about her safety.”

“She may be able to get away with this unruly behavior in Sylvania but her reputation would be in tatters if she ever went for a ride without an escort in London,” Bass replied, taking a sip of his drink before continuing. “She also spoke to me about the smugglers.”

Miles ground his teeth. “Charlie is obsessed with the idea of smugglers on our shores.”

“Do you believe her?” Bass asked, watching as Miles downed his drink in one gulp before returning it to the cart. 

“No I don't, and you shouldn't either.”

“Why not?”

Miles turned his gaze towards the open door and lowered his voice. “There've been rumors of smugglers using our shorelines for years, but they are just that, rumors. Even the constable doesn't pay them any mind.”

“But what if it's true?” Bass asked. “France is just on the other side of the channel.”

Miles shrugged. “The Navy protects the channel. I highly doubt a band of smugglers could get past them. I beg you not to encourage her. If you did, I do not doubt that she would become more upset than she already is.”

“You do realize that she is sneaking out in the middle of the night to look for them, don’t you?” Bass asked, leaning his shoulder against the wall.

“Damn it,” Miles muttered, rubbing his forehead.

“It’s ridiculous Miles. She can’t keep going on the way she is.”

“I agree, which is why we’ve struck a bargain. She has a fortnight to find proof that the smugglers are using our shores. After that, she’ll travel with us back to London for the season.”

“So you’re encouraging her to seek out smugglers?” Bass asked in disbelief.

Miles shook his head. “Of course not, she can’t find proof if there’s not any.” 

Bass straightened from the wall. “Your niece is hurting, Miles. She’s mourning the loss of her brother and she wants justice for him.”

Miles sighed. “I know, but that's impossible. His death was an accident. There is no one to blame. I want to take her far away from here so she can start healing.”

“You think taking her to London will stop her from wanting justice for her brother?”

“What would you have me do?” he asked. “Charlie spends all her spare time preparing to go to war with these nonexistent smugglers.”

  
  


“I don't know,” Bass replied. “Fortunately, it's none of my business.”

“Thank you, for your support,” Miles responded dryly.

Bass made his way to the door. “I’ll be in my room until dinner.”

* * *

Monroe was finding great amusement in the fact that Charlotte wouldn’t look at him from where she sat across from him at the dining table. She had spent the majority of the meal simply moving food around on her plate. 

Evidently, she didn’t have much of an appetite.

It was a shame that she was such a vexing woman because she was rather pleasing to look upon.

His lips twitched as she pursed her lips glancing in his direction before returning her attention back to her dinner plate. 

Yes, she was definitely attempting to ignore him.

“Do you come from a large family, Lord Monroe?” Lady Strathearn asked, interrupting his train of thought. 

Bass wiped the corners of his mouth with his napkin. “I have two sisters,” he informed her as he lay the napkin aside. “One sister is married, the other is at a finishing school in Bath.”

Lady Strathearn bobbed her head in approval. “Your mother must be proud of all her children,” she commented with a smile. 

Bass adjusted his eye patch, uncomfortable with the unspoken praise. 

“Most certainly having a son as a hero,” Miles said, raising his glass towards him.

Bass gave him an exasperated look. “I am not a hero,” he insisted. “I was merely a Lieutenant in his Majesty's Navy.”

“What do you intend to do now that you are out of the Navy?” Lady Strethearn asked as a servant cleared their plates. 

“I haven't decided,” Bass replied, shifting in his seat. 

“I'm trying to convince Bass to be more interested in his place as a landowner,” Miles shared.

Bass shrugged. “Being a landowner appears rather tiresome. Besides, my father is young and healthy. I anticipate him being around for many years.” 

“Are you afraid of hard work, Milord?” Charlotte asked.

“Hardly,” Bass answered.

Charlotte hummed. “It certainly appears that way,” she challenged.

“Hard work doesn’t intimidate me. If I’m truly passionate about something, nothing gets in my way.”

Charlie lifted her brow. “And just what exactly are you passionate about?”

“Many things.”

Charlie leaned forward in her seat. “Such as?”

“Charlotte, you're being rude to our guest,” Lady Strathearn chided. 

An awkward silence descended over the group as Charlie continued to stare at him with contempt in her eyes.

“And with that,” Miles said, tossing his napkin onto the table, “Bass and I shall adjourn for some port in my study.”

Lady Strathearn rose as well. “Will you be joining us for games in the parlor after?”

Miles glanced over at Bass. “What do you say, Bass? Are you up for a rousing game of Whist?”

“I suppose so,” Bass answered, earning a look of disapproval from Charlie as he rose from his chair to follow Miles towards a study in the rear of the manor. Once they stepped into the room, Miles stepped over to the drink cart, pouring two glasses of Port, extending one to Bass. 

“I apologize for my niece,” Miles said. “I don't know what came over her.”

Bass took a sip of his drink. “Your niece has a wicked tongue.”

“That she does,” Miles agreed, “but I've never known her to make disparaging comments to our guests before. She’s normally well-behaved in front of company.” 

Bass huffed. “I can scarcely believe that.” 

Miles sighed as he took a seat. “I just can’t imagine how hard it is for her to have lost her parents at such a young age and now her brother.”

“But she has you and your mother.”

“That's true, but it's not the same as having your parents around.”

“Agreed, but it still doesn’t excuse her behavior.”

Miles nodded his head. “That's true, but it makes you appreciate her more. She has endured more than any one person should have to.”

Bass took a sip of his drink and felt a twinge of guilt for how he responded to Charlotte. He was all too familiar with how the death of a loved one could affect you, having witnessed many deaths while in service to the throne. After a long moment, he acknowledged that death came and went as it pleased.

Moving to the chair next to Miles, Bass took a seat. “Are you and your niece close?”

Miles winced. “We may be family, but Charlotte and I are two vastly different people. She does, however, get along splendidly with my mother. Besides, I spend the majority of my time in London. Charlotte prefers it here in the country.”

“I can see why,” Bass replied. “The air is clear and waking up to the sounds of crashing waves is spectacular.” 

Miles agreed, placing his empty glass on the table in front of him. “What do you suppose I should do with Charlotte?”   
  


“I don't know,” Bass replied with a shake of his head. “Although it’s understandable, her whole focus seems to be on the smugglers and revenge.” 

Miles eyed his glass before looking over at Bass. “I was hoping that perhaps you could speak to her about it.”

Bass’ brows shot up in surprise. “Pardon?”

Miles held up a hand. “Please, Bass. Just talk to her and help her see that revenge is not the answer. Perhaps with your encouragement, she’ll stop seeking out these smugglers.”

“But why me?” Bass asked. 

“Because frankly, you’re my last hope.”

“You may not have noticed, Miles, but I'm confident that your niece hates me.”

“I have noticed, and that’s what convinced me that you’re the perfect man for the job.”

Bass shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Please,” Miles said. “I’m at my wits ends with her.”

Bass sat his glass on the table in front of him with a sigh. “I can't make any promises. Your cousin is an extremely vexing person. Plus, this is all under the assumption that she'll even speak to me.”

“I have no doubt that you’ll find a way to break down her defenses,” Miles said with the tilt of his head.

“Why would you think that?” Bass asked.

Miles smirked. “Call it a hunch.”

“Uh-huh,” Bass grumbled as Miles rose from his seat. 

“Shall we join the ladies for a game of whist?”

“I suppose we must,” Bass replied, pushing to his feet to follow Miles out of the room, wondering what he'd gotten himself into. How was he going to convince Charlotte to give up the thought of revenge? He understood how she felt, wanting revenge against the Americans for his eye, but he wasn’t sure he was the man for the job.

* * *

Charlie was sleeping blissfully when she suddenly felt someone shaking her shoulder. Opening her eyes, she discovered Bass standing over her,  looking at her most peculiarly.

Grabbing her covers, she pulled them up to cover herself. “What are you doing in my room?” she demanded.

He put his finger up to his mouth. “Shhhh.”

“What are you doing here?” she hissed softly.

“I thought we would go search the shoreline for any signs of smugglers.”

“You what?” she asked in surprise.

Bass frowned. “Will I need to repeat everything that I say to you?”

“I’m just surprised that you’re offering to help me.”

Bass glanced towards the closed door. “Could we possibly have this discussion outside of your bedchamber?” 

Charlie followed his gaze. “Of course.”

“I’ll wait for you in the hall.”

Charlie waited until he had closed the door behind him before throwing off the covers and hurrying over to her armoire to remove a pair of tan trousers and a white shirt.

After she was dressed, she opened the door to find Bass leaning against the wall. He straightened when he saw her, putting a finger to his lips once again before walking down the dark hall. 

She followed closely behind him as they made their way down the stairs and then proceeded towards Miles' study. He opened the door and approached one of the windows. Opening it, he ducked out of the window first, then turned back to assist her. 

Slipping her hand into his she climbed out the window, releasing his hand as soon as her feet were on the ground. 

* * *

“Follow me,” he ordered, turning towards the gardens.

As Bass down the footpath towards the gardens, Charlie hurried to keep up, using the moonlight to guide her way. 

Bass didn't stop until he reached the cliff that overlooked the ocean. “What strategy have you been using to find the smugglers?”

“I already told you, I walk up and down the shoreline looking for any sign of them.”

“Do you think that’s been productive?”

She nodded. “Yes, I do.”

“Do you know where your brother suspected the smugglers of coming ashore?”

“No. He never said.”

Bass huffed. “Then how do you know where to look?”

“I only recently started coming out at night to search for them,” she explained with a shrug. “I start here and I walk down the beach until I get tired.”

“That is the most foolhardy strategy I've ever heard,” he remarked dryly.

Charlie pressed her lips together. “Thank you for your observations.”

Bass met her gaze and she could see the irritation in his eye. “You are an impertinent thing, aren't you?”

“And you sir, are a pompous jackass!”

Bass turned his back to her and she could hear him mumble something under his breath. After a moment he turned back around. “You're making it increasingly difficult for me to want to help you.”

Charlie eyed him suspiciously. “I must admit that I'm curious as to why you would want to help me at all?”

Bass looked away from her. “Because I know what it’s like to want revenge.”

Charlie stared at him in disbelief. “You do?”

Looking back towards her, he pointed towards his eye patch. “If I could track down every member of the American crew responsible for attacking my schooner and taking my eyesight, I would gladly ensure that every one of them suffered the most painful, excruciating death possible.”

He took a breath. “While serving in Canada I had some experience tracking down smugglers, and I’m willing to help, but you must be prepared for the possibility that they are no longer here.

Charlie nodded stoically. “I understand.”

Bass ran a hand through his tousled curls. “You should know that your uncle asked me to talk you out of this foolhardy plan.”

Charlie’s mouth twisted. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

“Revenge can consume you if you allow it to,” Monroe said. “That is why I feel compelled to help you. I don't want revenge to deprive you of your future like it has mine.”

Charlie looked out towards the ocean. “What time is it?”

“It will be dawn in a couple of hours,” he replied. “Smugglers come at all hours of the night. Usually when there's no moon. If they were consistent, people might start recognizing a pattern.” He glanced over the cliff. “How do you get onto the beach from here?”

“Over there,” Charlie pointed. “I'll show you.” 

She led him over to a well-traveled footpath that led to the beach. They remained silent as they made their way towards the sands. Once they stepped onto the beach, Charlie turned to face him.

“What now?”

He gestured for her to continue leading the way. “I suggest we begin walking and look for any sign of the smugglers.”

“I thought you said that was a waste of time?”

“Since we’re here, I’d like to see the lay of the land.” 

With a nod, Charlie began to walk.

“How far is your estate from here?” 

“About a mile down,” she said, pointing towards the cliff in the distance. 

“I think it would also be helpful to walk the shoreline during the day. It would be easier to see signs of the smugglers when it's light,” he suggested

“That sounds like a good suggestion,” she replied. 

Bass glanced over at her with a smug smile on his face. “Did you just compliment me?”

“I did not.”

“It sounded like a compliment.”

“Well that was not my intention,” Charlie said, increasing her stride. 

Bass easily caught up to her. “Are you carrying a weapon?”

“Of course.”

“May I ask what kind?”

Charlie stopped in the sand and reached for the dagger in her left boot. She held it up for his inspection. “I carry a dagger in my left boot and an overcoat pistol in my right.”

Bass arched an eyebrow. “That sounds rather dangerous.”

“I can assure you it’s not. I usually have my longbow with me as well.” 

“Regardless,” Bass said, “these aren’t enough to take on a group of smugglers. You might be able to kill one or two before they overtake you, but rest assured they will kill you.” 

Charlie returned the dagger to her boot. “It depends on how many smugglers we're talking about.”

Bass’ mouth tightened. “If you want my help, then you must promise me that there will be no killing unless it is absolutely the last resort.”

Charlie took a step back. “I can't promise that.”

“Once we find proof of the smugglers, we’ll immediately notify the constable and let him arrest them.”

“And deprive me of justice?”

“Smuggling is a crime punishable by death. They will most assuredly receive their punishment, but not by your hands.”

Charlie looked away. She had so much hatred for these killers. If they found proof, could she just inform the constable and walk away.

“Charlotte,” Bass said softly, “please trust me.”

“Trust you?” she asked, ignoring the fact that he had just called her by her given name. “As you previously pointed out, we are barely acquaintances.”

“That’s true, but it doesn't mean that you can't trust me.”

“Why should I?” 

Bass took a step closer to her. “Because if the smugglers are using this shoreline, I will find them.”

Charlie knew she didn't have much choice. Searching the shoreline had as of yet yielded no success. Perhaps Lord Monroe really could help her track down the smugglers. He certainly seemed cocky enough.

“Alright. When it comes to the smugglers, I shall trust you.” 

Bass gave her a nod in response. “Shall we continue our search?”

* * *

Surprisingly, Bass woke feeling well-rested and in a good mood. Something that hadn’t happened since the attack. 

He and Charlotte had searched the shoreline until dawn, not speaking, for the most part, each content with their own thoughts. They saw no sign of the smugglers, which was no surprise to Bass. He wasn't fully convinced that the smugglers were even using the shoreline, but he found himself softening towards Charlotte and her quest.

Perhaps it wouldn't be the worst thing to help her, he decided. He understood the need for revenge and was in a position to help her seek the justice that she so desperately craved. Besides, if he didn't help her, he was afraid that she’d somehow manage to get herself killed and that was something he didn’t want on his conscience. 

With his decision made, he tossed off his covers and rose from the bed to dress before heading down to breakfast. 

As he stepped into the family's private dining room, the butler greeted him.

“Good morning, milord. Would you like me to prepare you a plate?”

Bass shook his head. “That's not necessary,” he replied stepping over to the buffet table, “I can fix my own.”

“Very good, sir. Lord Matheson wanted me to inform you that he has departed and will return before breakfast tomorrow if all goes as planned.”

Bass nodded his understanding as he finished filling his plate with food. Walking over to the table he sat down to eat.

He glanced over at the open door wondering if Charlotte would be joining him for breakfast. Not that he wanted her to join him with her incessant talking.

Shifting in his chair, he turned towards the butler. “Does Miss Matheson take a tray in her bedchamber?”

“No, Milord,” the butler replied. “Miss Matheson generally eats with Lord Matheson, however this morning, she has already finished her breakfast and is out on the East Lawn practicing her archery.”

“She's already awake?” he asked in surprise. 

The butler nodded. “Miss Matheson is an early riser.”

Bass turned back to his plate, his eyes drifting towards the window. He had to admit that he was curious to see if Charlotte was as proficient with the longbow as she claimed to be. Quickly finishing his breakfast, Bass rose from his chair. Leaving the dining room, he headed towards the main door. The sun was bright as he walked towards the east lawn, stopping when he saw Charlotte remove an arrow from her quiver.

She notched the arrow and brought the Longbow up, pointing it towards the target that was about sixty yards away. Once she released the arrow, Bass watched as it hit dead center on the target.

He was about to make his presence known when she quickly pulled another arrow out of her quiver, notched it, and pulled the string back to her chin. He watched in amazement as it landed with a thud, right next to her first arrow. It was an impressive shot.

“Good morning, Miss Matheson,” Bass spoke as she reached for another arrow. 

“Good morning, Lord Monroe,” she replied, pasting a fake smile on her face. 

He almost laughed at the smile she forced on her face. “I'm surprised you're already awake after searching the shoreline so early this morning.” 

“I'm an early riser.”

“I was watching you practice. You're rather good.”

“Thank you,” she replied, notching her arrow and turning back towards the target.

He walked closer to her as she released the string, hitting the red spot on the target once again. “How long have you been practicing archery?”

Charlie relaxed the grip on her bow, letting it rest beside her. “Miles hired an archer for me when he discovered I had a knack for it.”

Bass nodded. “You’re obviously a natural.” 

She smiled and her blue eyes lit up. “I became good at archery because I practice.”

“Regardless, you manage to hit three arrows in the center of the target,” he said pointing at the target. “What’s the distance?”

‘Sixty-five feet,” she answered. 

Bass’ brows shot up. That was quite a feat for a woman.

Charlie extended the longbow towards him. “Would you care to try?”

“I would,” he said, accepting the longbow. “I haven't shot anything since I started wearing this eye patch.”

Charlie removed an arrow out of her quiver and extended it towards him.

Bass notched it, getting a feel for the tension of the string, and brought the longbow up. He focused on the target, as his feet naturally positioned themselves. 

He held his breath as he released the arrow and was pleased when the arrow hit the center of the target but slightly to the right.

Charlie turned to him in surprise. “You can shoot!”

Bass found his chest puffing out in pride. “You sound surprised?”

“I suppose I am,” she replied, narrowing her eyes. “I propose a competition.” 

“A competition?”

Charlie nodded. “We’ll move the target back ten yards. Whoever makes the best shot can ask the other person any question of their choosing.”

“I suppose I'm amiable to that,” he replied.

Bass returned the longbow to her before, walking to the target and moving it back approximately 10 yards. He pulled the arrows out and returned to Charlie’s side, placing the arrows in her quiver. 

Once he stepped aside, Charlie notched an arrow and aimed for the target. 

Bass watched as it sailed straight for the middle. 

“Well done,” he praised.

Charlie smiled. “Thank you,” she replied, extending the longbow towards him.

Bass accepted the longbow and arrow that Charlie handed him, notching the arrow. Quickly taking aim he took a steady breath in, releasing as he exhaled, hitting the center slightly to the right once again. 

Charlotte clapped victoriously. “I get to ask you a question now.”

“Go ahead,” Bass replied. 

As Charlie eyed him curiously Bass prepared himself for the extremely personal question he knew was coming. 

“What’s your favorite dessert?”

His eyebrows rose in surprise. He hadn’t expected that. “Pudding,” he answered. 

“Pudding?” Charlie asked with a quirk of her lips. “Isn't that rather vague?”

Bass shrugged. “I enjoy all types of pudding. Rice pudding, spotted dick pudding, Christmas pudding.” He pointed towards the target. “Do you want to have another go at it?”

“Are you prepared to lose again?” Charlie asked with a tilt of her head.

Bass smirked. “I believe you're getting ahead of yourself, Miss Matheson.”

“Am I?”

Bass gestured towards the target. “Let's see if your luck has run out.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it.”

“We’ll see,” he replied, watching as a smile brightened her face. He was amazed that she was able to be so light of heart after everything she had been through. 

He realized that he must have been staring at her longer than he intended because he saw a faint blush bloom across her cheeks. 

He cleared his throat. “My apologies. I'm afraid I was woolgathering.”

“Would you care to go first this time,” Charlie asked, lifting her gaze. 

“Ladies first,” he insisted with a wave of his hand. 

This time Charlie’s arrow hit the target but slightly to the left. “Drat,” she muttered, extending the longbow to her competitor. 

Bass accepted the bow and arrow and adjusted the arrow on the string. Studying the target for a moment, he exhaled and the arrow shot forward, flying out of his fingers. It hit dead center. 

Feeling triumphant, Bass turned towards Charlotte, returning the bow. “I believe it’s my turn to ask you a question.” 

Charlie gave a nod, tilting her chin up slightly. “What do you wish to know?”

“What is your favorite dessert?”

She looked amused by the question. “Jam tartlets.” 

“They are delicious,” he replied before glancing up at the sun. “Would you still care to walk along the shoreline with me this afternoon?”

“I would, thank you.”

“Then I shall see you later,” he said, admiring her attractive face. 

Charlie gave a quick curtsy. “That you will, Milord.”


	4. Chapter 4

A deep clearing of the throat came from the doorway and Charlotte turned to see Lord Monroe. He was impeccably dressed in his gray jacket and dark trousers. 

“Lord Monroe, please come in,” Lady Strathearn greeted in a cheery voice.

“My apologies, I don't want to intrude.”

“Utter nonsense. You are always welcome,” she declared. “Please come and sit down.”

Lord Monroe took the seat next to Charlie on the settee, and she could smell the delightful scent of orange, wafting from his person, causing her to have the sudden urge to lean into him. 

Instead, she shifted in her seat, creating more distance between them.

“Would you care for some tea?” she asked, gesturing towards the teapot.

Bass nodded. “I would, thank you.”

Charlie poured the tea, extending the cup and saucer to him.

“Are you enjoying yourself here in Sylvania?” Lady Strathearn asked after he had taken a sip. 

“I am. Thank you,” Bass replied. 

“Have you had a chance to tour the medieval ruins yet?   
  


Bass shook his head. “I'm afraid not.” 

“That's a shame. Perhaps Charlotte will be gracious enough to take you on a tour.”

Charlie smiled. “I would be honored to.”

Bass glanced over at her. “Perhaps tomorrow?”

“That sounds delightful,” she agreed. 

“Are you ready to tour the shoreline?” he asked, setting his cup and saucer down.

“I am,” she replied. “I'll go and change into a different gown, I won’t be but a moment.”

Bass rose to his feet. “Of course. I shall wait for you in the entry hall.”

“Thank you, Lord Monroe,” she said, heading towards the doorway, hurrying up to her bedchamber. 

Excitement shot through her at the thought of spending additional time with him. For some unknown reason, she was beginning to spend far too much time thinking about him and wondering what exactly it would take for him to smile with her.

* * *

Bass let out a sigh as he waited for Charlotte at the bottom of the stairs. It always baffled him how much time it took a young lady to get ready. 

Hearing a noise, he looked up and saw Charlotte descending the stairs with a straw bonnet in her hand. She wore a white gown and her hair was pulled back into a low bun.

“Thank you for waiting, Lord Monroe,” she said, coming to a stop in front of him.

How had he never noticed her eyes were the most unusual shade of blue. 

“It was my pleasure, Miss Matheson. Shall we?” he asked, extending his hand out to indicate she should go first.

Charlie glanced over at him as they started walking towards the door. “I must admit that I’m rather excited to tour the shoreline during the day.”

“Is there a particular reason?” he asked, clasping his hands behind his back.

A footman opened the door for them and they began the walk down the paved path through the garden. “It isn’t appropriate for a woman to walk along the beach alone during the day-”

“But it is at night?” he asked, cutting her off. 

Charlie waved her hand dismissively. “No, but no one can see me at night. I walk near the edge of the cliff for a reason.”

“I see,” he said, amused. “You don't think anyone would notice a boy wandering the shoreline.”

“And so far no one has,” she replied smugly.

“That you know of.” 

Bass’ gaze wandered over the garden which was organized into three-tiered terraces with a greenhouse. “This is an impressive garden,” he commented.

“Oh, dear,” Charlie smirked, “We’re talking about gardens now.” 

“No. This is just the first time I've walked through them during the day.”

Her eyes scanned their surroundings. “My grandfather enjoyed botany. He spent the majority of his time in the greenhouse.”

“Was your grandfather kind to you?”

“Oh, yes. He showered me with love.” 

“That pleases me to hear.”

Charlotte stopped and leaned down to pick a flower. “I've been fortunate to have never lacked for love. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Have you ever lacked for love?

“Not at all,” he replied. “My mother is most kind-hearted.”

“And your father?”

Bass tilted his head as he searched for the right words. “My father is a complex man and rarely shows emotion in front of me.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that,” she murmured. 

Bass shifted his gaze away from her sympathetic one. He didn’t need her pity nor did he want it. 

Charlie surprised him by touching his sleeve. “I'm sure your father loves you very much; he just doesn't know how to express it.” 

Bass wanted to lash out. To tell her that he didn't want her to feel sorry for him, but instead, he looked into her eyes and thanked her.

Charlie held his gaze for a moment before dropping her hands. “I'm glad that you have such a wonderful mother.”

“How do you know my mother's wonderful?”

“Because I know you,” she smiled. 

“Perhaps I'm the black sheep of the family,” he remarked in amusement.

“Although that wouldn't surprise me,” she replied, “I know you have a good heart, albeit guarded.”

Bass pulled back. “Why would you think that?”

Charlie continued walking and he easily met her stride. “You're helping me look for the smugglers even though you have nothing to gain from it.”

“I'm helping you because I want you to receive the revenge that my soul so desperately craves,” he pointed out.

“True, but also because you're a good person,” she replied with a wink. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.” 

The woman had gone daft, he decided as he stared at her retreating figure. How was it possible that she thought he was a good person? He had spent the majority of their acquaintance berating her. 

No not daft. Stubborn and infuriating maybe, but never daft. 

He hurried to catch up with her as she started down the footpath towards the beach. “Where do you suppose we start looking?” she asked once they reached the bottom. 

Bass scanned the shoreline. “It's not uncommon for barrels of brandy to wash up on English shores and then for the smugglers to haul it to another location. That’s what we need to look for. A secret cave or tunnel.” 

“I've looked in every crevice along the shoreline and I've never seen a tunnel.”

“It’s possible they’d use a cove or seawall as cover.”

Charlie’s head shot up. “There's a cove further down the shoreline, but it’s very rocky.”

Bass nodded. “I suspect that the smugglers anchor their ship off the coast and send in rowboats to collect the contraband and that’s assuming that they're actually using these shores.”

“I understand,” Charlie replied.

Bass frowned. “I just don't want you to be disappointed if we don't find any smugglers in the time Miles has allotted you.”

Charlie gave him a small smile. “I want you to know how much I appreciate all that you’re doing for me, Lord Monroe.”

  
  


He somehow managed to fight back a smile at her words. “Let's go visit that cove you mentioned.”

* * *

After dressing for dinner, Charlie stepped into the hall outside her bedchamber and hurried towards the drawing-room. Entering the room, she saw Lord Monroe near the fireplace dressed in a black jacket and trousers along with a white waistcoat and cravat. He looked dashingly handsome. 

Bass looked up when she walked into the room and bowed. “Miss Matheson.” 

She gave a small curtsy. “Lord Monroe.” 

Meeting his gaze she saw his appreciation of her appearance in his eye, and it made her feel desirable, something she had never felt before. 

Bass’ gaze snapped to the door when the butler stepped into the room and announced that dinner was ready to be served. 

“We’ll wait for my grandmother to join us if you don’t mind,” Charlie said, turning to the man. 

The butler glanced between them. “My apologies, but I thought you knew.”

Charlie glanced at Bass. “Knew what?”

“Your grandmother had a headache and requested a tray be sent to her bedchamber. However, she insisted that dinner be served as usual for you and Lord Monroe.” 

Charlie resisted rolling her eyes. She had a suspicion that her grandmother was attempting to play matchmaker. “How kind of her,” she murmured

Bass came to stand next to her, extending his arm. “Eating dinner with me won’t be so bad will it?”

“Of course not.” 

Bass led her into the dining room and pulled out a chair for her. Once she was seated, he pushed in her chair, then claimed the chair across from her. 

“Did you enjoy the rest of your afternoon?” Charlie asked as she placed a napkin in her lap. 

Bass nodded. “I spent it reading in my bedchamber.”

Two footmen stepped forward placing a bowl of soup in front of each of them. 

Charlie picked up her spoon and began eating. 

“How did you occupy yourself this afternoon? Bass asked, wiping the corners of his mouth with his napkin. 

Charlie looked up from her bowl. “I also read.”

“Anything interesting?”

“Shakespeare.” 

  
“Ah. We know what we are, but know not what we may be.” 

Charlie stared at him in amazement. “You’ve read Shakespeare?”

Bass nodded. “I was forced to read it as a midshipman.” 

The same two footmen came and cleared their bowls as another one brought out a tray of venison setting it down in the center of the table. 

“Allow me to serve you,” Bass said, pushing back his chair. He came around the table and placed some venison onto her plate. 

“Thank you,” Charlie murmured. 

“You’re most welcome.” 

“What was your childhood like?” Charlie asked as he took his seat, curious to know more about him. 

“Eventful. I ran my parents ragged with mischievous behavior.” 

“In what way?”

“I built boats, swam in the lake on our property, climbed trees, rode entirely too fast, and collected bugs and frogs to torment my tutors.”

Charlie smiled in curiosity. “Why would you want to torment your tutors?”

A twinkle of amusement came to his eye, something that she had not seen before. “They wanted me to learn.”

“Was that so bad?”

“It was when the weather was warm.”

Charlie bit back a laugh. “You poor thing.”

“I was constantly putting things in their satchels in hope that they would quit.” 

“Did it work?”

Bass shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“I imagine your antics did not amuse your parents.”

“No, they did not. Mostly they counted down until I turned thirteen.” 

“Why thirteen?”

“Because that's the youngest age Eaton College will accept.” 

Charlie smiled. “I think I would agree with your parents. It sounds as though you were quite unruly in your youth.” 

“Traitor.”

“Did you get into trouble at Eton?” she asked, reaching for her glass.

“Define trouble.”

“That’s a yes.”

“When I turned fourteen I became a midshipman in the Royal Navy. “That's when I started to behave. I learned navigation, astronomy, and trigonometry from the ship's schoolmaster. I also stood watch on deck.”

“You didn’t buy your commission?”

“You can't buy a commission in the Navy. That’s only in Army Regiments. However, midshipmen are trained to become commissioned officers to achieve a higher rank. We were required to sit for exams.”

“Did you enjoy being a part of the Navy?”

Bass grew silent as his hand rose to touch his eye patch. “I did. It was supposed to be my whole life.”

“I’m sorry.”

“My entire identity was stripped from me the moment I lost sight in my eye.”

“Are you blind in your left eye?” Charlie asked with a tilt of her head.

“No,” he answered with a shake of his head, “but I can't get it to focus. When I don’t wear my eye patch I get horrible headaches.” 

“That sounds awful.”

Bass looked away. “I don’t need your pity, Charlotte.”

“Good. Because that's not what I was offering.” 

“I beg your pardon?” Bass asked in surprise. 

“You lost sight in one eye, leaving you with a perfectly good one. Some men have returned from the war with missing limbs.”

“Your point being?” he asked with a frown firmly in place.

“You're lucky to be alive.”

Bass pounded his fist on the table causing her to jump in her seat. “You think I want this life? To be a cripple?”

“You sir, are no cripple,” she countered. “You have lost partial sight in one eye.”

Bass shoved his chair back and threw his napkin onto his plate. “Because I lost sight in one of my eyes I was honorably discharged from the Royal Navy. They considered me an invalid.” 

Charlie could feel the anger radiating from him and stayed quiet.

Bass rose and pushed in his chair. “You have no idea what I've lost!” He exclaimed. “I’ve lost everything!”

“I disagree-”

“No! You don’t get to have an opinion on the matter. This is my life, not yours!” 

Before Charlie could utter another word Bass stormed out, causing her stomach to churn. She wasn’t upset over his outburst by any means. No, she was upset because this was a man who was hurting deeply and she was going to find a way to help him.

* * *

Bass sat alone in the dark.

He hadn't been able to sleep so he'd finally given up and poured himself a drink. That glass now sat empty in his hand. 

His thoughts centered solely on Charlotte. He couldn’t understand why she didn’t see him as an invalid the way everyone else did. He wore an eyepatch for heaven's sake. It was evident to all that he’d lost his sight. 

Nor did she pity him. She actually expected him to be grateful he hadn’t been killed. 

Bass hung his head in despair. He was miserable. He felt alone and lost, hardly recognizing the man he had become.

Lifting his head, he looked out the window and into the night sky. Taking his eye patch off, he attempted to focus his left eye on the stars but was unable to. He flung the patch away as hard as he could. He missed his friends and he missed his life. Leaning against the wall he mourned his crew. 

He was just about to turn away when he looked down and saw Charlotte carrying her bow as she hurried through the gardens, once again dressed in men's clothing. 

“Blasted woman,” he muttered under his breath. She was going to get herself killed. 

Retrieving his eye patch, he rushed out of his chamber and down the steps hurrying towards the study where he unlocked the window and exited the manor. He raced through the gardens in hopes of intercepting her.

Stepping onto the footpath, he saw her race down the beach. He assumed she was heading towards the cove they'd scouted out the previous day. 

He was able to keep her in his line of sight as he quickened his pace. He watched as she climbed an outcropping of rocks near the cove and disappeared. 

When he finally reached the outcropping, he looked for any sign of her but there was none. Running a hand through his tousled curls he frantically scanned the cove. 

Hearing a noise that sounded like boots scuffing against rocks, he turned his head and saw a flash of white near another outcropping of rocks ten yards back. He crept closer, his eye scanning the area when a voice came unexpectedly from behind him. 

“Stop where you are,” Charlotte ordered. 

Putting his hands up, Bass turned around slowly. 

Although she was using the shadows to her advantage, Bass could see that she had an arrow nocked in her bow and the string pulled back. 

“It’s me,” Bass hissed. 

Charlie lowered her longbow. “Bass? What are you doing down here?” 

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said lowering his hands.

Charlie shrugged. “We had plans to stake out the cove this evening, but you never came to wake me up.” 

“Probably because I’m rather irritated with you,” he admitted. 

Charlie approached him with the bow at her side. “I want to apologize for what I said. I had no right to speak to you in such a forceful manner.” 

Bass frowned. He hadn't expected an apology. 

“It is I who needs to apologize. I had no right to lose my temper and storm out of the dining room leaving you unaccompanied.” 

“I understand why you did. But you have to understand that I have never once considered you a cripple.” 

The question slipped out before he could stop it. “Why is that?”

Charlie's eyes sparkled in the moonlight. “Because you've never given me a reason to believe that you are.” 

“But I wear an eyepatch,” Bass replied, struggling to understand.

“Lots of people wear eyepatches.” 

Bass stared down at her. “How is it that you don’t judge me on my appearance? Everyone else does.”

Charlie‘s face softened. “I don’t believe that. Has anyone treated you differently since you started wearing the eye patch, or is that you perceive that they are treating you differently?” 

Bass looked away. “Does it matter?”

“Yes, actually it does.”

Bass sighed. “No one understands what I’m going through.”

Charlie took a step towards him. “That may be true, but your friends and family want to help you.”

“Help me?” He scoffed. “They can’t restore my sight nor can they force the Navy to take me back into their ranks.”

“That’s true, but they can be there when you want to talk, perhaps even cheer you up.” 

“I’m angry, Charlotte. I don’t need cheering up.” 

Charlie placed a comforting hand on his sleeve. “Why?”

Bass stared at her for a moment before running a hand over his mouth as he admitted, “It’s the only thing that keeps me going.”

Charlie nodded. “I find myself angry that Danny died and left me all alone. I’m angry because sometimes I wish it was I that had perished.”

Bass reached out and took her hand in his. “I’m glad you're with me here. Now.”

Unshed tears filled Charlie’s eyes. “I thought you hated me.”

Bass shook his head. “No, I don’t hate you. I’d like to consider you my friend.”

“You would?”

“Yes,” he chuckled. “I would.” 

Charlie gasped. “You laughed!” 

Bass smiled. “I suppose I did.”

“I’m glad you followed me down here,” she said softly.

Bass’ gaze left hers and scanned the cove. “I'm glad there were no smugglers tonight. We would have missed them being preoccupied and all.”

Charlie grew quiet for a moment. “Do you truly believe there could be smugglers in these waters?”

“No, I don’t,” he admitted. “We’ve seen no signs that give any indication smugglers have ever been here.” 

Charlie looked down the beach. “I assumed as much.”

“However, that doesn’t mean we stop searching.”

“But, what’s the point?”

Bass grasped her shoulders forcing her to look at him. 

“Don’t give up just yet. This cove is a good landing point.”

“That’s true,” she conceded. “There are many paths leading up the cliffs from this point.”

“Exactly,” Bass nodded.

“I just don’t want to be wrong,” she admitted.

Bass tilted his head. “Why is that?” he asked watching different emotions flit across her face. 

“Because then I would be forced to acknowledge that Danny's death was an accident.”

“Then we’ll keep searching for the smugglers together.”

Charlie’s chin trembled. “Thank you, Lord Monroe.”

“I give you leave to call me Bass if you’d like.”

“Then you must call me Charlie.”

Bass smiled. “I’d like that, Charlie.”

It was only then that he realized his hands were still resting on her shoulders. Removing them, he took a step back and looked up at the sky. “It’s almost daybreak. I suggest we head back and sneak into the manor before the servants wake up.”

“I agree,” Charlie replied.

* * *

Bass woke to birds outside his window. Throwing off his covers, he slid his long legs over the side of the bed. He rose and took a moment to stretch his back hoping that Charlie hadn’t forgotten about touring the medieval ruins today, because for the first time in a long time he was eager to start the day.

After changing clothes, he headed towards the family's private dining room, surprised to see Miles sitting at the head of the table with a newspaper in his hands

“Morning, Bass. You overslept.”

“Did I?” he asked, looking over at the sideboard.

“Luckily you arrived just in time, the footmen were just about to start clearing the buffet.”

Stepping over to pick up a plate, Bass filled his plate before sitting in the chair to the right of his friend. “How was your trip?”

“It was productive. I put in an offer on some land,” Miles answered.

Bass reached for his fork. “That’s wonderful. I’m happy for you.”

“You are?” Miles asked, lying his paper aside

“I am. I hope they accept your offer.”

“As do I,” Miles said, sitting back in his chair. “What did you do while I was gone?”

“Nothing really,” Bass said looking up. “I was quite unproductive.”

“Nothing?”

Bass shook his head. “I spent the majority of my time in my bedchamber reading.”

Miles eyed his friend speculatively. “Did you spend any time with my niece?”

Bass reached for his teacup. “I did. We had an archery competition on the east lawn yesterday morning.”   


“Really? Who won?”

Bass grinned. “It was a tie.”

Miles chuckled with a shake of his head. “Did you by chance speak to her about what we discussed?”

“I did.”

Miles rolled his eyes, “And?”

“And, I have a plan,” Bass replied, lowering his voice.

“A plan? Is it a good plan?” Miles asked, leaning towards his friend.

Bass shrugged. ”It's brilliant.”

Miles snorted. “Not likely if it's coming from you.”

“Trust me.”

Miles gave a nod. “You know I do.”

Bass had just returned to his plate when Charlie entered the room dressed in a grey riding habit with her hair tied at the base of her neck. 

Miles and Bass both rose for their seats.

Charlie offered Bass a small smile before approaching her uncle and kissing his cheek. “Welcome home, Uncle.”

“It’s good to be back. Did you oversleep as well or were you practicing your archery?”

“I’m afraid I overslept.” 

Miles frowned, “Are you feeling well?”

“I’m fine,” she replied, turning towards the buffet. “I was just in the mood to linger this morning,” she explained, taking a seat beside Bass. “Do you still want to tour the medieval ruins today?”

“I do,” Bass replied with a smile. 

“Wonderful. Shall we leave after breakfast?”

“May I join you?” Miles asked as he watched them. “I haven’t been to the ruins in years.”

Bass hid his disappointment. “Of course. The more the merrier.”

“I’ll just go change my jacket. I’ll be back shortly,” he said as he rose from his chair.

“How did you sleep? Bass asked Charlie once Miles had left the room.

“Well, and you?”

“Surprisingly well,” he admitted.

“Oh and why's that?” she asked.

“Ever since the explosion, I've struggled with sleeping. Between the nightmares and anxiety, I stay awake most of the night.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Charlie responded, knowing not to push him further. 

Finishing their meal, they quietly conversed about the history of the ruins until Miles rejoined them.

“May I escort you to the stables?” Bass asked as he rose and offered Charlie his arm.

“You may,” she replied with a smile, sliding her hand into the crook of his arm.”


	5. Chapter 5

Securing their horses next to the ruins, Bass extended his arm once again and Charlie graciously accepted.

“I can’t wait to show you some of the pottery left behind,” she said, leading him to the interior of the ruins.

“Less talking, more exploring,” Miles called out from ahead of them. 

Charlie shook her head with a smile as they followed slowly behind him. “How long were you in the Navy?” she asked. 

“Almost twenty-five years,” he sighed.

“I’m sorry that they discharged you against your will.”

“As am I. I had several good years left.”

“What are your plans now?”

“Frankly, I don’t know. My father is still young and actively runs our estate, not to mention I trained from a young age to become a commissioned officer.”

“As I’ve suggested on multiple occasions,” Miles remarked, appearing beside them once again, “you should take the inheritance from your grandmother and buy your own estate.”

“Perhaps,” Bass conceded. “I must admit it doesn’t seem as awful as it did before.”

As they were talking, Charlie stepped over a small pile of broken bricks that had fallen off the wall and her foot slipped on some loose rocks. Before she could even react, Bass had slipped his arm around her waist and held her tight.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“I am,” she replied breathlessly. “Thank you.”

Miles cleared his throat breaking the spell that had come over them. “I believe that my niece has already thanked you, Bass.”

“Oh, yes of course,” Bass muttered, withdrawing his arm and taking a step back. 

Before he could offer his arm, Miles stepped between them and did that very thing. Charlie slipped her hand into the crook of Miles' arm and they resumed their tour.

* * *

“Wake up.”

Bass reacted quickly, reaching out to grab the person by the throat. 

As he squeezed the thin neck, he heard the faint pleading.

“Bass, It’s Charlie. You're hurting me.”

Charlie.

In his room.

Bass dropped his hand and shot up in bed. “What are you doing in my bedchamber?”

Charlie brought her hand up to her throat. “I’m not here to rob you,” she joked, rubbing her throat.

“I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“No,” she replied, shaking her head. “Just startled me.”

His eyes darted towards the closed door. “Why are you in my bedchamber?”

“I thought you intended to go to the cove with me,” she whispered.

“I do,” he replied, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, grateful that he picked up the habit of sleeping in his clothes instead of a nightshirt. However, his shirt hung open at the top and he noticed that Charlie was staring at his broad chest.

“When you didn’t wake me, I came to see if our plans had changed,” she explained.

“And what if someone saw you?” he chastised.

Charlie rolled her eyes.

Bass glanced towards the window. “Thank you for waking me up. I was sleeping quite well.” 

“I’m glad,” Charlie replied softly.

Rising, he tied the string to his shirt and retrieved his waistcoat before reaching for his Hessians.

“Thank you for accompanying me.”

“It's my pleasure,” he replied, looking over at her, only to realize she was studying his face, absent the eye patch.

He met her gaze, daring her to look away. However, much to his surprise, she took a step closer. “I think you look better with the patch.”

“You do?”

She nodded. “It gives you an air of danger.”

“You don’t think I look like a pirate?”

She smiled playfully. “Oh, you do, make no mistake about that.”

He frowned at her response.

“I’m sorry, I offended you.”

“I don’t wish to be a pirate,” Bass said softly.

“What do you want to be?” She asked, searching his face. 

“I wish to be normal.”

Charlie tilted her head. “Why would you wish to be normal when you're extraordinary?”

Bass scoffed. “How am I extraordinary?

“You're a hero. You fought valiantly for King and country.” 

“No. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time,” he said raking a hand through his hair. “I was next to the main mast when the cannon hit and the blast shot me across the deck. When I woke three days later, I discovered that fifty-six of my men had been killed.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss-”

Bass shook his head forcefully. “Don’t you dare apologize. You have no idea what I’ve been through these last two months.”

“No, I don’t. But I’m here now, and I want to help.”

Bass growled. “I don’t need your help, nor do I want it.”

Charlie frowned. “Bass, It's obvious that you're hurting inside.”

“And you think you can help me?” 

Reaching out, Charlie took his hand in hers. “You can’t continue like this. I promise you can trust me, Bass.”

“I failed my crew,” he whispered despondently.

“You fought until you could fight no more. You never gave up.”

Letting go of her hand, he turned away from her. “After I woke, they released me because of my familial connections,” he admitted bitterly. “Whereas the rest of my crew were not so lucky. They had to wait until a prisoner exchange could be coordinated.”

Charlie took a seat on the settee in the room. “You are the son of a  Marquess ,  an Earl in your own right . ”

“That is why I loved being in the Navy. I was simply Captain Monroe. I was treated no differently than anyone else.”

A look of understanding crossed her features. “How wonderful to be judged on one’s own merit.”

“It was,” he admitted.

“I’m glad that you’re here with me.”

“Are you?” he asked softly.

Charlie nodded. “We’re friends and I don’t have many of those.” Standing she held out her hand. “We should probably get down to the shoreline before it gets too late.”

“That’s a good idea,” he replied, taking her hand. Not able to resist the urge, he reached to brush a wayward strand of hair off her cheek and behind her ear. Dropping his hand before he did something foolish like kiss her, he took a step back. “We should go. You go ahead, and I will meet you in Miles’ study.”

Charlie’s brows dipped at his expression, but merely nodded and left his bedchamber in silence.

Sucking in a breath, Bass did his best to rein in his emotions before following her.

* * *

That was three days ago.

Since then Bass had gone out of his way to ignore her during the day, while still escorting her to the shoreline in the early morning hours, unwilling to allow her to search for the smugglers alone. 

At least that’s what he had been telling himself. However, no matter how hard he tried to create distance between them, he found himself drifting right back towards her.

Stopping outside her room, Bass knocked softly. Almost immediately, the door opened to reveal Charlie in her shirt and trousers. “You’re late,” she said, stepping into the hall with him. “We'd better hurry if we want to catch the smugglers tonight.”

“You're in a rather optimistic mood this morning,” he observed.

Her smile grew as they approached the stairs. “The moon is dark tonight. A perfect time for smugglers to come ashore.”

Sneaking out through Miles’ study, a sliver of moon cast almost no light as they headed towards the cliff and down the footpath to the shoreline, a light fog clinging to the water as they headed for the cove.

“It’s lovely out here,” Charlie murmured.

“It is,” Bass agreed as he looked at her.

“What is London like?” Charlie asked, glancing in his direction.

“Pretentious,'' he quickly replied. 

Charlie fell silent.

“What’s wrong?” he asked

“It's nothing,” she replied softly.

Bass took a step towards her. “Let me be the one who decides that.”

He stopped, turning to face her. “Clearly it’s something.”

Charlie took a breath and met his gaze. “I worry that I won’t fit in.”

“Make no mistake about that,” he stated, causing Charlie to frown.

Realizing that she had misunderstood, he rushed to clarify. “You won’t fit in because you’ll outshine every other person there.”

A line appeared between her brow. “But you said-”

He shook his head. “Ignore what I said before. No one will speak out against you in London, I guarantee it.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Do you trust me?”

“I do,” she answered with no hesitation.

“Good. Perhaps we could ride through Hyde Park together.”

Charlie smiled. “I’d like that very much.”

“As would I,” Bass replied. “Now, should we take up our post and watch for smugglers?”

Charlie shrugged as she looked over at the nearby outcropping. “What's the point?”

“You’re giving up?” he asked in surprise.

“Every night we come down and every night we’re disappointed.”

“That’s true,” he agreed, “but isn't the fun in the adventure?”

Charlie frowned. “What adventure?”

“We're searching for smugglers. That’s fun. Besides haven’t we used our time wisely getting to know one another?”

“I suppose,” she replied.

“Come. Let's man our post and look for smugglers.” Taking her hand, he led her towards the outcropping of rocks surrounding the cove and found their usual spot near the cliff overlooking the water.

They hadn’t been there very long at all when Charlie pointed towards the sea. “Bass, what's that?” she asked.

Bass sat up straight as he focused his one eye on the large object that had crashed onto the shore.

“No! It can’t be,” he whispered eyeing the barrel and another five that were drifting back and forth in the surf.

“Should we investigate?” Charlie asked, her mouth dangerously close to his ear.

“No, we stay where we are,” he answered, bracing himself for the inevitable. He had no doubt smugglers would be showing up next.

They were just able to make out the sound of men's voices coming from the water, watching as three row-boats carrying two men each came towards the shore. 

A smaller man, who appeared to be in charge waived his cutlass gruffly, shouting orders as they pulled their boats to shore.

Retrieving the barrels from the surf, the men hoisted them upon their shoulders and began carrying them across the sand directly towards Bass and Charlie.

“Get down,” Bass hissed, lowering his head below the outcropping as he pulled the pistol from his waistband. He was pleased to see that Charlie already had her overcoat pistol in hand.

“Where does that path lead?” Bass asked as the smugglers continued on a footpath leading up the cliff.

“To Miles’ hunting lodge,” Charlie replied.

“We need to get out of here now,” Bass said, reaching for her hand.

“What? No!” She hissed, yanking her hand back. “We need to follow them and see where they go!”

Bass looked at her like she was crazy. “Did you happen to notice that they outnumber us?”

Charlie got to her feet but remained crouched low. “I’m going after them with or without you.”

“Well you sure as hell aren’t going alone,” he muttered.

Without waiting for him, Charlie scrambled up the narrow path.

As they approached the top of the cliff, he saw that it was overgrown with shrubs and trees and nearly sighed in relief. There were ample places for them to hide without being seen.

Once Charlie stepped under the cover of the trees, she veered off the path and hid behind some shrubs. The moment he crouched down next to her she turned to him and whispered, “Miles’ hunting lodge is about a hundred yards up the path.” 

“What else is on this path?”

Charlie frowned. “Nothing really.”

“No other structures?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“We have to assume that they’re using Miles’ hunting lodge as a place to store the barrels. In a few hours, we can ride into town and inform the constable.” 

“We have to know for sure.”

“No. We can’t risk getting any closer.” 

“Maybe you can’t, but I can,” Charlie declared, turning away from him

Bass reached out to grip her arm, “You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“No, I won't,'' she said turning back to face him. “You need to trust me.” 

“I’m not sure I can,” he replied, letting go of her arm.

“Trust goes both ways, Bass.” 

Bass heaved a sigh knowing she was right. “So, what’s your plan?”

Charlie smirked. “Simple. Approach the lodge and confirm that they are storing the barrels there.”

Bass groaned. “That plan is awful, and could very well get both of us killed.” 

“It won’t,” she replied with confidence. 

Staying low, Charlie weaved through the trees and Bass hurried to stay close behind her. She stopped short and put her hand up when they were a few yards away from a two-level building with a thatched roof.

Four of the smugglers exited the cottage and started walking down the path back towards the beach, but he couldn't see where the other two had gone. 

Bass turned towards Charlie but to his horror saw that she was gone. He frantically searched the nearby foliage for her before seeing her exit the safety of the trees and approach the hunting lodge, peering into a side window. 

The main door of the lodge was flung open and the other two smugglers stepped out onto the porch. They seemed to be having a conversation but he couldn’t hear what they were saying. His gaze shifted towards the side of the cottage and he saw Charlie edging closer to them. 

He ran a hand across his forehead. The girl obviously had a death wish. 

Charlie stopped at the edge of the cottage and she appeared to be listening to their conversation. Hearing footsteps, he watched as the other four smugglers approached, each with a barrel on their shoulder. 

He shifted his gaze towards Charlie but saw she had already returned to the safety of the trees. Within a few moments, she was crouched next to him once again.

“Someone is picking up the smuggled goods in two days. I didn’t hear whom, but whoever it is, is bringing them goods to smuggle out of England.” 

Bass nodded his understanding. “Now can we depart?”

“I propose we walk around rather than returning to the beach,” she suggested in a hushed tone. 

“For once we agree.” 

He had barely finished his thought when Charlie started leading him deeper into the trees.

The sun was rising over the horizon as they approached Matheson Manor. 

Charlie did not doubt that the servants would already be awake, preparing for the day and she had an uneasy feeling about returning home. Glancing over at Bass she saw that his back was rigid. Perhaps he was as anxious as she. 

“I'm sorry,'' she said. 

“For what?” he asked, keeping his gaze straight ahead. 

“That going around took longer than I anticipated, and now the sun has risen.” 

Bass met her gaze and then quickly looked away. “It couldn't be helped,” he replied calmly. “We couldn't return to the beach with the smugglers about. With any luck we can sneak back into Miles' study and no one will be the wiser.” 

“Let's hope so,” Charlie murmured. 

They continued in silence until they arrived outside Miles' study and Bass opened the window. Holding out his hand to assist Charlie, she had just stepped through the window when Miles' voice came from the far side of the room. “What the hell?”

Charlie froze as she saw her uncle's face become distorted with anger. He was sitting next to Mr. Horn his steward with a pile of ledgers open in front of them. She had never seen Miles so angry and she found it almost frightening. 

“Watch your language,” Bass ordered in a stern voice behind her. “There’s a lady present.”

Miles' eyes narrowed as he rose from his seat. “Are you serious?”

Bass came to stand next to Charlie. “I am.” 

Mr. Horn cleared his throat rising awkwardly. “If you’ll excuse me, this appears to be a family matter,” he said, ducking out of the room. 

Miles advanced on them. “Do you want to explain what's going on between the two of you?”

“Nothing is going on between us,” Charlie declared. 

“Nothing?” Miles repeated as he stopped in front of them, his nose flaring. “You actually expect me to believe that?” he asked, looking between the two of them.

“Yes,” Charlie replied, her voice rising. “Bass has been kind enough to escort me to the beach so that I might search for the smugglers.” 

“Smugglers?” Miles shouted, throwing his hands up in the air. “You are standing in my study dressed as a boy! Do you not see the seriousness of your situation?” 

“If you would just listen-”

Miles waved his hand dismissively. “No. Not another word about smugglers,” he said cutting her off. “Is that clear?”

“No,” she replied defiantly, squaring her shoulders. 

“No?” Miles asked with a frown, his eyebrows dipping low. “I beg your pardon?”

“I will not stop speaking about the smugglers,'' she said, taking a step closer to him, “because we saw them this morning.” 

“Who?”

“The smugglers!”

Miles' eyes widened as he glanced between them. “You saw smugglers? Here? On the beach?” 

Charlie nodded. “We saw them row to shore and carry barrels up to your hunting lodge.” 

“They’re using my hunting lodge to store smuggled goods?”

Bass finally spoke up. “How often do you use that lodge?”

“Rarely. In fact, the gamekeeper has been using it for storage,” he replied as he began to pace back and forth. “Are you sure you saw a smuggler? Perhaps you’re mistaken in what you saw?

Bass rolled his eyes. “We’re not mistaken. We’ll need to inform the constable right away.” 

Miles stopped pacing. “I'm not sure that is the best course of action.”

“Why not?” Bass asked.

**  
** “Because, what would happen if the smugglers discovered it was Charlie that had tipped off the constable?” 

“It doesn’t matter!” Charlie exclaimed. “I’m going to the constable.” 

Miles raised his voice, nearly shouting. “No, you're not! You're staying home! Do I make myself clear?” 

“I will not,” she replied, sticking out her chin. 

Miles pursed his lips. “You are the most infuriatingly, obstinate woman that I know. Fine, I have enough work to do. You two go to the constable, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

Charlie smiled graciously. “Thank you, Miles.” 

He pointed a finger at her. “You will put on a gown before you leave this house.” 

Charlie tilted her head. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go do that now.” 

With a parting glance at Bass, Charlie left Miles' study and hurried up the stairs to her bedchamber. 

Bass watched Charlie flee from the room and had an undeniable desire to follow her. He could tell that Miles' words had affected her and he wanted to be the one who comforted her. 

He took a step towards the door when Miles spoke up. “I’m not finished with you.”

Bass turned towards Miles with an expectant look. 

“What in the hell do you think you're doing with my niece?” 

Bass shrugged with a shake of his head. “Nothing.”

“Nothing,” Miles repeated in an exasperated voice. “Do you really expect me to believe that?”

‘“It’s the truth.”

Miles eyed him suspiciously. “I’m trying to decide if you're mad or actually believe the lies you're telling.” 

Bass took a step back. “Charlie and I are friends, nothing more.” 

“And you’re on a first-name basis now, I see.”

“I’m not sure what you want me to say,” Bass responded. “You were the one who asked me to look after your niece.”

Miles brows shot up. “Are you somehow implying that this is my fault?”

Bass crossed his arms over his chest. “In a way, yes.”

“Is this somehow part of the so-called brilliant plan you mentioned before?”

“It is. You asked me to prove to Charlie that revenge is not the answer and that's what I did,” Bass defended. “Furthermore, I convinced her to let the constable arrest them.” 

Miles muttered something incoherent under his breath before asking. “How long have you been sneaking out with her?”

“Since the night you asked me to help her,” he answered.

Miles stared at him in disbelief. “You're not serious!”

“If I was, would it help you sleep better?”

Miles raked a hand through his hair. “Fuck,” he muttered.

“What if someone had seen you? Didn't you think about Charlie’s reputation or your own?”

“Frankly, I was too busy ensuring that Charlie didn’t do something foolhardy which could have gotten her killed.”

“ And I thank you for that,” Miles said as he walked over to the drink cart. He removed the stopper and poured himself a drink. “Drink?”

Bass shook his head. “No, thank you.”

Miles took a sip of his drink. “I’m still considering challenging you to a duel.”

“That wouldn’t be wise since I’d win,” he smirked.

“I’m well aware, however, I’m still worried about Charlie's reputation. Everyone knows how the servants talk-”

“ I’ll marry her if need be,” Bass declared.

Miles blinked. “You’ll what?”

“I said I’ll marry her.”

Miles tossed back the rest of his drink and set the empty glass on the tray. “I see. Do I have your word on that?”

Bass nodded. “You do, but only if Charlie’s reputation suffers because of this mishap.”

“Let's hope it doesn’t come to that.” 

“I agree.”

Miles dropped down onto the settee. “Can you kindly explain what happened tonight?”

“There’s a rocky cove between your property and Charlie’s. On a previous occasion, I had determined it would be the perfect place for smugglers to come ashore due to its isolated location.”

Bass made his way across the room and took the seat across from Miles. 

“Early this morning, Charlie and I went to the cove and saw the smugglers come ashore. We watched as they hurried up the path leading to your hunting lodge. Your niece decided to follow them.” 

“Of course she did,” Miles mumbled.

“After we arrived at the lodge, Charlie went and confirmed that the barrels were being stored in the lodge. She overheard two of the smugglers talking.”

Miles leaned forward in his seat. “What did they say?”

“In two days someone is going to remove the barrels from the lodge and provide them with goods to smuggle out of England.” 

A frown came to Miles' face. “Did they say who?”

Bass shook his head. “She wasn’t able to hear what they’d been saying,” he replied. “At that point, we were forced to take the long way around back to the manor. We didn’t dare return to the beach.”

“That does make sense,'' Miles said, leaning back on the settee. “I should be grateful to you that Charlie didn’t try to kill the smugglers on her own.”

“Oh, make no mistake about it, your niece  _ is _ bloodthirsty. But I informed her I would only help on the condition that there would be no killing.” 

“And she agreed to that? Willingly?”

“She did, even though she’s still grieving her brother deeply.”

“I know,” Miles replied, glancing over at the open door, “but I am at a loss as to how to help her.”

“It's been my experience that the more you talk about someone who has passed on, the more you prove that they are never far from your mind.” 

“And you think that will help?”

Bass shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt.”

Miles studied him for a moment. “And what of you?”

Bass stared back. “What of me?”

“Are you ready to speak of the comrades you lost?”

Bass rose quickly. “Don’t make this about me.” 

“I was just asking,'' Miles said, raising his hands in surrender.

“Am I free to leave or would you like to interrogate me some more?” 

“It’s over,” Miles said, waving him away. “Are you sure you want to take Charlie along when you meet with the constable?”

“I’m sure,” Bass replied.

Miles nodded. “I’ll trust your instincts on this one.”

“Thank you,'' Bass said before leaving the room. He hurried up the stairs anxious to change and ride into town. 

Miles spoke to the butler who was standing next to the stairs. him. “Have my horse readied, please. I have an urgent matter I need to attend to.”

“Yes milord,” the butler said, tipping his head. 


	6. Chapter 6

Charlie met Bass at the bottom of the stairs and they walked outside to where a groom was waiting for them with their horses. 

Intertwined his fingers, Bass bent down to assist Charlie upon her horse. 

They rode sedately into town, discussing their families at leisure before arriving at Constable Grey’s cottage. 

Dismounting, Bass tied his horse up and came around to assist her. 

Charlie leaned forward, placing her hands onto his shoulders. 

His hands rose to her waist. 

Once her feet were on solid ground Charlie took a step back. “Thank you,” she murmured, her cheeks having turned a lovely shade of pink

He took her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm. “You're quite welcome.”

The door to the cottage opened, revealing the constable in the doorway. He stepped out onto the porch. “Miss Matheson, what an unexpected pleasure.”

“Lord Monroe, may I introduce Constable Grey.”

Bass tipped his hat at the Constable. “May we have a moment of your time?”

“You may, Milord,” the constable said, glancing between them. “Is everything all right?”

“I think this conversation would be best away from prying ears,” Bass remarked as his eyes scanned the crowded walkways.

“Of course,” the constable replied, nodding his understanding as he led them towards a small room off the main hall. “Please,” he said, waving towards a settee, indicating Charlie should sit. 

Bass came around to stand behind her.

“How may I help you,” the constable asked, leaning on the edge of his desk.

Bass glanced down at Charlie before speaking. “Earlier this morning, Miss Matheson and I saw smugglers come ashore near Matheson Manor.”

“You did? How many did you see?”

“Six.”

“Did they see you?”

Bass shook his head. “They did not.”

The Constable sighed in relief. “That's good,” he said. “What were they smuggling?”

“We saw barrels in the water before the rowboats came ashore,” Charlie explained.

“And where was this exactly?”

“There’s a rocky cove between Lord Matheson’s property and my own,” she replied. “A trail leads from the beach to Lord Matheson's hunting lodge.”

Bass placed his hands on the back of the settee. “We followed them and saw them store the smuggled goods inside the lodge.”

The Constable rubbed his face thoughtfully. “Do you believe that Lord Matheson is harboring these smugglers?”

“Heaven's no!” Charlie cried. “Miles had no knowledge that the Smugglers were using his hunting lodge. He was just as surprised as we were when we informed him.”

“I see,” the Constable said. “I’ll of course need to speak to Lord Matheson regarding this matter.”

Bass removed his hands from the settee and took a step back. “Miss Matheson overheard the smugglers talking. Someone will be picking up the barrels in two days and will provide them with items to smuggle out of England.”

“Not if I can help it,” the Constable said determinedly. “I thank you for coming to me. I’ll assemble a local militia and we’ll deal with this mess.”

“We’ll be happy to help you round them up,” Charlie suggested.

The Constable shook his head. “Absolutely not, Miss Matheson. It's not safe for you to be anywhere near them. I assure you that I’ll take care of this matter, discreetly of course.”

Charlie pressed her lips together, attempting to hide her displeasure. “I understand.”

“Good,” the Constable replied.

Charlie rose from the settee. “Thank you, Constable.”

The Constable smiled kindly. “If what you're saying is accurate, it’s I that should be thanking you and Lord Monroe.” He glanced between them with a frown. “I won't ask why you were on the beach so late and I intend to keep that between us.”

“I appreciate your discretion,” Bass replied. 

“A word to the wise,” the Constable said in a warning tone, “stay off the beaches at night. No good can come from it.”

Bass came to stand next to Charlie. “Understood.”

The Constable bobbed his head approvingly. “I shall be in touch, Milord.” He tipped his head at Charlie. “Miss Matheson.”

Taking Charlie’s arm, they stepped out onto the constable's porch to retrieve their horses.

* * *

On his way to the dining room for breakfast, Bass heard the sound of music. His steps faltered as he listened to someone playing Mozart on the pianoforte with expert precision.

Finding himself curious about who was playing, he walked across the entry hall and into the drawing-room where Charlie sat at the instrument with her eyes closed, her hands racing along the keys. She wore a mint colored gown with a green ribbon tied around her waist, briefly drawing his attention to her comely figure. 

He watched in fascination as she played the last note and dropped her hands idly into her lap. He was about to make his presence known when she opened her eyes and began to play another song, one that was unfamiliar to him. To his great astonishment, she opened her mouth and started singing along. 

Bass found himself bewitched by her lovely singing voice. Watching her beautiful face as she sang, he knew he would never get tired of listening to her.

He didn't dare move until the last passionate note died away and she brought her hands back to her lap. “That was beautiful,” he said as he walked further into the room.

Charlie looked at him in surprise. “I didn't realize anyone was listening.”

Bass came and stood next to her. “I was on my way to breakfast and wanted to see who was playing the pianoforte so splendidly. I recognize Mozart but I’m unfamiliar with the piece that you sang.”

“That's because I wrote it myself.”

  
“You wrote that?” He asked in surprise. 

“I did,” she answered proudly.

“You’re a woman of many talents,” he said, his eye roaming her face.

A faint blush bloomed on Charlie’s cheeks as she reached up and arranged her sheet music. 

“That’s hardly true. Every young lady is expected to play the pianoforte and sing.” 

“Being able to play the pinafore and being proficient at it is entirely different,'' he pointed out.

Charlie shifted on the bench. “You're being exceptionally complementary this morning,” she teased.

“And I haven't even had my breakfast yet.”

Charlie grinned. “You overslept. I've been up for hours.”

“I must admit that I'm surprised myself,” he replied. “I woke up to Miles valet coming into my bedchamber and opening the drapes.”

Charlie’s smile softened. “I'm glad to know that you slept so well.”

“I'm not.”

“You aren't?”

He shook his head. “I've been hoping to join you for some early morning archery practice. Perhaps have another go at a competition.”

“Why?” she asked, her face remaining expressionless. “You would have only lost.”

Bass chuckled. “You were rather confident about your abilities.”

“If you're not opposed, we could practice our shooting later.”

“That sounds brilliant. Now that we've caught the smugglers I find that I have nothing else to occupy my time.”

Charlie's whole face lit up. “Isn't that a wonderful thing?”

Bass found himself drawn to her blue eyes losing himself in their depths. “You seem cheery this morning.”

“I am,” she responded. “By now the Constable has most likely arrested the smugglers and they’re in prison awaiting their sentences. They’re going to finally pay for their crimes.”

“Do you want to watch their hangings?”

“That seems rather gruesome, don't you think?” she asked. 

“I'm afraid it's become rather common for people to witness a public execution,” he explained. “They always draw large crowds outside of Newgate.”

“How distasteful,” she replied.

A knock at the door had Charlie slipping her hand off his sleeve as the butler entered the room. “The Constable is here to call on Lord Monroe. Are you available, Milord?”

Bass nodded. “I am.”

The butler tipped his head. “I’ll show him in then.”

A few moments later the Constable strode in with a stern expression. “Good you're both here,” he said, glancing between them. “I don't have time to exchange pleasantries, I'm afraid.”

“Whatever is the matter, Constable?” Charlie asked.

The Constable frowned. “There is no easy way to say this so I’ll just go ahead and say it.” He took a deep breath. “Last night I organized a militia and we went to arrest the smugglers at Lord Matheson's hunting lodge, only when we arrived there was no one to be seen and the smuggled goods were gone.”

Charlie gasped. “Where did they go?”

The Constable shrugged. “Frankly, I'm not sure, but we confirmed their rowboats are still in the cove which means wherever they went, it was on foot.”

“You have to go search for them,” Charlie declared urgently. 

“Have no doubt,” the Constable said, “but that raises a ticklish question.”

“Which is?” Bass asked.

The Constable glanced over at the open door and lowered his voice. “Who did you speak to about the smugglers?”

“Just my uncle and my lady's maid,” Charlie said.

The Constable turned an expectant look towards Bass. “And you my Lord?”

“I only spoke to Lord Matheson.”

The Constable frowned. “We believe that someone may have tipped off the smugglers. From the appearance of the hunting lodge, it seems they left in a hurry.”

“But who would have done such a thing?” Charlie asked.

“That is what I aim to find out, Miss Matheson,” the Constable said. “Meanwhile, I would encourage you to use caution until we’ve caught them.”

“We will,” Bass assured the man. 

“Good,” the Constable said with a bob of his head. “I had hoped to speak to Lord Matheson, but the butler has informed me that he’s away.” 

  
“That’s correct,” Charlie said. “He’s touring the farm with his steward.”

The Constable shifted his gaze over to the window, his brows drawn together. “I'm afraid I have a few questions to ask him.”

“I can assure you that Lord Matheson has no knowledge of the smugglers,” Bass said. 

“Regardless, I need to speak to him.”

“Of course.”

The Constable bowed. “Good day to you both.” 

Bass watched the Constable leave the room before turning his gaze back towards Charlie. 

“Are you alright, Charlie?” 

“We need to go search for the smugglers,” she said with a sudden determination in her voice. “We can't leave it up to the Constable to find them.”

His brow shot up. “You can't possibly be serious.”

“We can't let them get away with this.”

Bass ran a hand through his hair. “And pray tell where would we even start looking?”

“We start at Miles’ hunting lodge,” she said, walking towards the door with a purpose.

“Wait,” he called out, “where are you going?”

She turned to face him. “I can't very well wear one of my finer gowns to search for the smugglers.

“This is madness,” he declared. 

“No. This is an adventure,” Charlie smiled.

  
  


“No. No. We stay here and let the Constable deal with the smugglers,” Bass insisted. “I'm putting my foot down.”

Charlie arched a brow. “You’re putting your foot down, Milord?” 

“Yes.”

She stared at him for a long moment before saying, “Fine. You can stay behind, but I'm going.” Turning on her heel, she left the room without another word. 

“Damnit,” Bass muttered under his breath. She had called his bluff.

* * *

Charlie raced her horse towards her uncle's hunting lodge with her bow in hand and a quiver draped over her shoulder. She was now more comfortable dressed in a white cotton dress and black Hessian boots

She glanced over and saw Bass riding tall in his saddle, his expression stern. He had spent a good portion of the morning arguing with her about coming, but in the end, he decided to join her although he didn't appear pleased by his decision.

As they neared the lodge they reined in their horses. “We should proceed the rest of the way on foot,” Charlie called out to him

Bass just grunted as he dismounted.

Charlie slipped off her horse and secured him to a low branch. The woods were alive with activity and she watched squirrels playing as birds warbled overhead. 

Bass came to stand next to her. “I still say this is a bad idea.”

“You didn't have to come along.”

Bass frowned. “I couldn't very well let you come alone.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you need a protector.”

“Just so we’re clear, I don't require your protection.”

“Yes, you do,” he said, taking a step closer to her. “Your thoughtless actions are going to get you killed.”

“I'm stronger than I look.”

“Just to be clear, it's not your strength I'm worried about,” he said. “It's your intelligence that I'm calling into question.”

Charlie tilted her head, taking a moment to admire his strong jaw. “I think I preferred you this morning when you were complimenting me.”

“I'm serious, Charlie.”

“I know you are,” she replied, “but that doesn't change my desire to find the smugglers. We found them once and we can do it again.”

“Have you considered what will happen if we do find them?” he questioned. “There are six of them and only two of us.”

Charlie held up her bow. “This will even the odds.”

“I’ll admit that you're a good shot, but do you understand the implications of taking another life?”

“I do.”

Bass took a step closer and grabbed the bow out of her hands. “Their death will haunt you every single day for the rest of your life. Taking someone's life is always the last resort.”

“I understand,” she said softly.

“I don't think you do,” he replied gruffly, looking down at her. “You’re so focused on revenge that it's clouding your judgment.”

“What would you have me do?” she cried. “Just let them walk free? Or better yet should I help them with their smuggled goods?” 

“No! But I want you to understand that there is more at stake than just smuggling. We’re talking about your life, Charlie. Your future.”

“I don’t have one as long as they’re out there, running free!” 

“What if the smugglers had nothing to do with your brother's death?” Bass demanded. 

Chest heaving, Charlie reached out taking back her bow. “They’re guilty by association.” 

“You are a stubborn, vexing woman,” Bass declared. 

Charlie took a step forward till they were toe to toe. “And you are a cantankerous lord!”

Bass narrowed his eye as it roamed over her face. “Why did I ever agree to help you?”

Standing so close to him, Charlie had a hard time finding her voice, much less formulating a response. 

Bass, however, didn't appear affected by her nearness at all.

“Well?” he asked, his gaze intensifying. 

Charlie took a step back, her gaze never leaving his. “Just go home, Bass,” she replied dejectedly. “I never needed or asked for your help.”

“No,” he said determinedly. “I won't leave you alone.”

“Why? Why do you care so much?”

Bass ran a hand over her face. “I shouldn't, but heaven help me I do.”

Unsure of his meaning, she remained silent.

Bass let out a deep sigh as he shook his head. “Fine. Let’s continue on to the hunting lodge and our untimely death.”

Charlie’s lips twitched in amusement. “Aren’t you being overly dramatic?”

“Just follow me,” he ordered, before turning towards the lodge.

Charlie remained close as they wove in and out of the trees, mindful not to slip on the green moss that covered the ground.

As the hunting lodge came into view, Bass ducked behind a large tree. He scanned the area as he waited for her to approach.

“Did you see something?” Bass asked her as she came to stand next to him.

Charlie shook her head. “No. Did you?” 

“No.”

Charlie peered out from behind the tree to look at the lodge. No movement came from within and it appeared empty. 

“I'll go first,” she said.

“Not bloody likely,” he muttered, removing a pistol from the back of his trousers. “You stay here until I give the all-clear.”

“Fine.”

He looked back at her. “Your job is to cover me.”

Charlie removed an arrow from her quiver and notched it. “I can do that.”

“Good.”

She watched as Bass crept closer to the lodge, her eyes scanning the surrounding areas as he approached the porch. He continued until he was able to peer into the side window. After a moment he waved her over.

She covered the distance in a few strides, coming to crouch down beside him. “There's no one inside,” he informed her.

“Then we should use the door,” she said, standing and striding over before Bass could stop her. 

Opening the door, eerie silence and the smell of stale air greeted her. She stepped further into the room and skirted around the furniture covered in dusty sheets. 

Bass followed her inside and closed the door behind him, still holding the pistol in his right hand.

Charlie crossed over to the fireplace along the back wall and saw that it was full of ash. “Someone didn't clean out the fireplace after they used it.” 

“Look at the floor,” Bass said, pointing to the dust-covered floorboards. “There are bootprints all over the place.” 

Charlie walked around the room looking for any other signs of the smugglers. When she found none, she approached the stairs and placed a foot on the first tread. 

“Careful,” Bass said, touching her waist lightly as he followed behind. 

Charlie nodded in understanding as she slowly crept up the stairs. The second floor held three bedchambers. She entered the first room and saw a four-poster bed in which someone had recently slept. The blanket was pushed back and the sheets were wrinkled. She cautiously walked around the room looking for any clue that can help aid in their search.

“Did you find anything?” Bass asked as he stepped into the room. 

“Other than the fact that the bed was slept in, not really.” 

“The other beds have been slept in as well,” he said, walking over to the bed. Crouching down he looked under it. “There’s nothing in these rooms to indicate who tipped off the Smugglers but it is evident that they left in a hurry, just as the Constable stated.”

Charlie sighed in discouragement. 

“Perhaps we can find a clue outside,” Bass suggested.

“I doubt it.”

Bass lifted his brow. “Now you're a naysayer?”

Ignoring his question Charlie walked out of the room, back down the stairs. She stepped out onto the porch and started to look for boot prints. It didn't take long for her to find dozens of them.

“Did you discover anything?” Bass asked, coming to stand next to her.

“Bootprints, but they're going in all different directions.”

Bass’ eye scanned the area. “Are there any other buildings on Miles’ property?”

Charlie shook her head. “None that are currently unoccupied.”

Bass turned to look at her. “What about your property?”

“The Dowager house on the southside of the property. It’s been boarded up for years,” she said.

“We know that the smugglers didn’t return to their ship, so they would need to find another place to hide,” Bass reasoned. “Somewhere close, because they probably traveled on foot. Furthermore, it needs to be large enough to house six men and the barrels of smuggled goods.”

“The Dowager House would easily accommodate six men and it's isolated from the main house. Shall we investigate?”

Bass shook his head. “I propose we ride into town and notify the constable of our suspicions. If the smugglers are residing at The Dowager House, we don't want to tip them off.”

“I suppose you make a good argument,” Charlie reluctantly admitted.

“And perhaps we don't mention our suspicions to Miles,” Bass added.

“Do you think that Miles has something to do with the smugglers?” 

“Of course not,” he said, taking one of her hands in his. “I just think that we should keep this between us until the constable has time to investigate.”

Charlie looked up from their joined hands. “I can agree with that.”

Bass smiled. “If we hurry, we might have time to go shooting later this afternoon.”

“That sounds delightful.”

* * *

“You and Sebastian seem close,” Lady Strathearn commented as she pulled a needle and thread through a piece of fabric.

Charlie jabbed her needle into her own handkerchief then paused to stare at her grandmother. “Why would you say such a thing?”

“Because I saw the two of you laughing this morning as you practiced archery.” 

Charlie sat the handkerchief down in her lap. “Lord Monroe hardly laughs.”

Her grandmother smiled. “He does when he's around you.”

“I’ll admit that he does seem more relaxed than when he first arrived and smiles more frequently” she replied.

“And why do you suppose that is?” her grandmother asked.

“I couldn't even presume to guess,” Charlie responded, hoping to steer the conversation away from herself. 

“You two have been spending a great deal of time together.”

Charlie shrugged. “We get along nicely.” 

“Interesting.”

“There's nothing interesting about it, Grandmother. We’re simply friends.” 

“Oh, you’re friends? I thought he was boorish and stubborn?”

“Oh, he is, make no mistake about that,” Charlie responded, “but he’s also kind and considerate.” 

Lady Strathearn hummed. “I see.”

Charlie glanced over at the open door and lowered her voice. “Lord Monroe asked if I would want to go riding in Hyde Park once we arrived in London.”

“And what did you say?”

“I said yes. I've never been riding in Hyde Park before.”

“Is that the only reason?” Lady Strathearn asked with a lifted brow.

Charlie blinked. “What other could there be?”

Her grandmother rose and came to sit down next to her. “Is there a chance that you’ve started to develop feelings for Lord Monroe?”

Charlie shook her head causing the curls around her face to bounce. “Absolutely not,” she lied. “We’re just friends.”

“But is that what you want?”

Charlie placed her handkerchief on the table. “It doesn't matter what I want. Lord Monroe barely tolerates me.”

“Why ever would you say that?”

“Because we're constantly bickering.”

“You must be patient,” her grandmother said, patting her knee. “These things take time.”

“What things?”

Her grandmother smiled. “Matters of the heart.”

Charlie tilted her head in disbelief. “Are you implying that Lord Monroe and I are falling in love?”

Her grandmother nodded.

“Oh no. No, no, no. You have it all wrong,” Charlie insisted. 

“Do I?”

“Yes, because we're just friends.”

“If you say so,” her grandmother replied with a smirk.

Charlie huffed. “I’m serious!”

Her grandmother rose at this point. “You know I only want what's best for you, Charlotte.”

“Of course, Grandmother.”

“Good,” her grandmother said, patting her cheek. “I just want you to be happy.”

They both looked towards the door where the butler had entered. “The constable has come to call on Lord Monroe and Miss Matheson,” he announced. “Are you available?”

“I am,” Charlie replied. “Could you please inform Lord Monroe that he's needed in the drawing-room?”

The butler nodded. “Yes, Miss.”

Lady Matheson placed a hand on Charlie's shoulder. “I shall see you at dinner. I have a meeting at the hospital.”

“Of course, Grandmother.”

Lord Monroe arrived shortly after she had left. “I heard the constable is here to see us,” he said making his way to her side.

“Yes, I was informed as well,'' she replied, noticing that his eye patch was slightly askew. She reached up to adjust it but Bass took a step back. 

“What are you doing?”

“Your eye patch is askew. May I?”

Bass nodded, but his whole body tensed.

She reached up and adjusted the patch, running her finger along the white scars near his eye. “Did you receive these in the blast as well?”

“I did.”

Charlie met his gaze. “You're handsome not in spite of these scars, but because of them.”

His eyes widened. “You think I’m handsome?”

A blush spread over her cheeks as she lowered her hand. “I'm telling you nothing you don’t already know.” 

“That doesn’t answer my question,” he replied softly.

Someone cleared their throat from the doorway, causing them to separate,

The constable stood in the doorway with his top hat in his hand. “Is this a bad time?”

“Of course not,'' Bass said, shaking his head. “Please come in and have a seat.”

Charlie gracefully lowered herself onto a settee and was pleased when Bass claimed the seat next to her. 

The constable sat across from them and placed his top hat next to him. “I come bearing good news,” he smiled. “After you left yesterday, I organized another militia and went and investigated The Dowager House.” 

“You did? And did you find anything?” Charlie asked.

The constable nodded his head. “We did. We also found more than a dozen barrels of smuggled goods.” 

“That's wonderful news!” Charlie exclaimed.

“It is,” the constable agreed, “and it’s all thanks to the two of you.”

“I didn't do much,” Bass admitted. “It was Miss Matheson who was adamant about the smugglers using the shoreline.” 

The constable gave her a weak smile. “With your permission, I'd like to reopen the investigation into your brother's death and interview these smugglers.” 

“Yes, please,” she agreed eagerly. 

“I can’t promise anything will come of it.”

“I understand, but it’s a start.” 

The constable nodded as he rose from his seat. “Indeed it is.” 

“Thank you so much,” Charlie said, as she rose with him.

Bass stood as well. “Thank you for looking into the matter.”

“I’ll keep you posted on my investigation.”

After the constable left, an overjoyed Charlie turned in a circle. “I can’t believe it!” she declared as she came to a stop. “The smugglers have been arrested!” 

Bass grinned. “All because of you.”

“But you helped as well.” 

He took a step towards her. “We make a good team.”

“We do,” she agreed, returning his smile. 

Charlie met his gaze. “I feel...free.”

“That is a remarkable feeling.”

“It is.” she nodded. “I did what I set out to do.”

“What do you intend to do now?'' he asked, taking yet another step closer. 

“I intend to go to London with Miles and let my grandmother host a ball for me. It's time for me to move on.” 

“Will you save a dance for me?”

“I will, as long as it's not the cotillion,” she shuddered.

Bass smiled. “That’s good to know. I want to thank you, Charlie.”

“For what?”

“For helping me to see past myself, and past my injury. Because of you, I'm hoping for a brighter future.” 

“That's kind of you to say.”

Bass shrugged. “It's merely the truth.” 

Charlie glanced towards the window. “Would you care to go riding?”

“With you? Always.”


	7. Chapter 7

“You're no fun, Bass!” Charlie declared as they debated over which book they should read together. 

“How can you say that?'' he asked, holding a hand to his heart. “We just spent hours riding through the countryside.”

“I suppose that's true,” she agreed with an exaggerated sigh. 

“And this morning we practiced archery. Although you did lose.” 

“We each lost a round,” she corrected.

“I recall it differently,” he teased playfully.

“Why am I not surprised,” she replied with a smile that lit up her whole face. 

When she looked at him like that, Bass had to fight the urge to step forward and pull her into his arms. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her. 

Realizing that he had not responded, he opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted when Miles stormed into the room with a murderous look on his face. Bass instinctively stepped in front of Charlie to shield her from his view. 

Miles stopped in the middle of the room. “What in the hell do you think you're doing, Charlie!”

Charlie stepped out from behind Bass. “I beg your pardon?”

“I just spoke to the constable and he informed me that he just arrested the smugglers, thanks to a tip from you!”

“Yes, that's true.”

Miles put his hands out in front of him. “Do you have any idea of the repercussions that could come from this?”

Charlie looked back at Bass.”But they’ve all been arrested.”

“Those smugglers have, but what about the rest of the smugglers on their ship. Don't you think they'll seek revenge?”

“They wouldn’t dare,'' Charlie replied with a tilt of her chin.

Miles took an intimidating step towards her. “They’ll kill you without hesitation!” He declared. 

Bass put a hand on Miles' chest stopping him from coming any closer. “We won’t let any harm come to Charlie, though, will we.”

“No, we won't,” Miles growled. He looked pointedly at Charlie. “I want your trunks packed immediately. I’m sending you to London tomorrow morning along with your grandmother.” 

“Is that really necessary?” Charlie asked, chewing at her bottom lip.

Miles' lips went flat. “You have no idea what you've done! The people you've angered! Just go! A tray will be sent to your room!”

Charlie gasped in disbelief. “You're punishing me?” 

“The smugglers will come looking for you and I can't protect you! You need to go to London and never come back!” 

“I don’t bloody think so! This is my home!”

Miles shook his head, anger radiating off of him. “I told you to forget about the smugglers but you didn’t listen.” 

“And you know why!”

“Your actions have been foolhardy, and you!” he said pointing towards Bass, “You helped sign her death warrant!”

Bass frowned. “Aren't you being overly dramatic?”

“No, I’m not!” Mies declared hotly.

“The smugglers have been arrested and are awaiting sentencing. Furthermore, the constable has posted guards at the cove in case any other smugglers attempt to come ashore. No one would dare to make a move against Charlie.”

“I agree, but what's to stop them from coming back next week or next month or even next year?” 

“You could hire guards.”

“That won’t stop them!” Miles insisted.

“Why are you so afraid of the smugglers?” Charlie asked with a tilt of her head.

“Why aren't you?” Miles shouted back before wiping a hand over his face and taking a deep breath. “Because of your meddling, I’m ruined.” 

“Excuse me? How did I ruin you?”

Miles dropped his hand. “It doesn't matter. Let's just hope we can get you out of here before it's too late.” 

Bass stepped closer to Charlie. “I’ll escort Charlie and Lady Strathearn to London to ensure their safety.”

“As will I,” Miles huffed, “along with a dozen armed footmen.”

“That seems rather excessive,” Charlie commented.

“I assure you it’s not,” Miles snapped. With a shake of his head, he left the library.

Stepping over to a nearby table, Charlie placed the book in her trembling hand down. “I’ve never seen Miles that angry before,” she said, taking in a steadying breath. 

“He's just worried about you.”

“What did he mean when he said I ruined him?”

“I’m not sure, but he did seem rather adamant about that,” he replied with a frown. 

“I should go change for dinner,” she said looking towards the door. 

Bass took a step towards her. “Allow me to escort you.”

“No,” she said holding her hand up, “I’m more than capable of walking to my bedchamber unescorted.” 

“As you wish,” Bass replied softly.

“Thank you for the offer,” she said, giving him a tremulous smile. 

Bass watched as she fled the library and reached for the book on the table with a sigh. He had so looked forward to them reading together. 

He had just taken a seat by the fireplace when he heard a woman scream.

Charlie!

Dropping the book, Bass jumped up from his seat and ran down the hall towards the stairs. He skidded to a stop at the top of the stairs. “Charlie!”

At the foot of the stairs, Charlie’s body lay unmoving. He raced down the stairs, fell to his knees, and immediately checked for signs of life. 

She was still alive.

He gently pushed a lock of her hair back away from her face and sighed with relief when she groaned slightly at his touch. 

In some part of his brain, Bass was aware of the staff's concerned voices around him but it didn't matter. 

None of it mattered. 

All that mattered was Charlie

Miles' voice came from the top of the stairs. “What happened?” he demanded, racing down the stairs.

“I don’t know,'' Bass replied. “I heard a scream and found her at the bottom of the stairs.” 

Miles crouched down next to Charlie, the concern on his face evident. “Is she alive?”

“Yes.”

Miles shouted for the butler. “Send for a doctor at once!” 

The butler's voice came from somewhere behind them. “Yes, Milord.”

“We need to take her to her bedchamber,” Miles said, rising.

Without asking permission, Bass scooped Charlie into his arms. “I’ll take her.” 

Miles put his hands out. “I’ll do it.” 

“No. I have her.” 

“It isn't appropriate for you to be in her bedchamber,'' Miles growled. 

Bass clenched his jaw. “Damnit Miles, do you really care about propriety at a time like this?” 

“Fine. Follow me.”

Tightening his hold on Charlie, Bass followed behind Miles as they strode up the stairs and down the hall. He didn't bother to mention that he already knew which bedchamber was Charlie’s because he'd been inside numerous times. 

Miles opened the door to her bedchamber and stood to the side as Bass entered and placed her on the bed. As he started to pull a blanket over her, Miles cleared his throat and shook his head. 

“You should allow her maid to complete that task.” 

Bass glanced up and saw a young woman standing next to the dressing table wearing a uniform.

A refusal was on the tip of his tongue. 

“Bass,” Miles said with a warning in his voice. “I promise you can come back later to see her, with an escort of course.” 

“Fine.” Bass took a step back and turned his anguished gaze to the maid. “You will take care of her won’t you?”

“I promise, Milord.” 

With a final glance at Charlie’s bruised face, Bass walked out of the room and headed towards his own bedchamber. He wanted nothing more than to be alone right now. Well, that wasn't exactly true. He wanted to be by Charlie's side but he had no right to be. 

And that irritated the living hell out of him.

* * *

Charlie woke up feeling disoriented and groggy as someone placed a cool cloth on her forehead. 

“Miss Charlotte?” 

Charlie closed her eyes tighter. The last thing she wanted to do was wake up. 

Charlie heard footsteps leaving her bedchamber. Reaching up, she placed a hand on the cold cloth. 

With great reluctance, she blinked her eyes and noticed that light flooded her bedchamber. Turning her head she saw that the windows were open and the drapes were flowing gently in the breeze

How long had she been asleep?

She turned her attention towards the door when she heard her grandmother's voice in the hall.

With a relieved look on her face, Lady Strathearn rushed into the room. “Oh, my dear, you’re finally awake.”

“How long was I sleeping?”

Her grandmother frowned. “I'm afraid you weren't sleeping,” she said. “Do you recall falling down the stairs last night?”

Charlie dropped her hand from her forehead. “I do,” she replied. “I must have slipped.”

Lady Matheson placed her hand gently on her shoulder. “I'm so relieved that you only suffered minor injuries. Mostly bumps and bruises.”

Charlie groaned as she tried to sit up, causing her grandmother and ladies maid to begin fussing over her. “I'm fine,” she assured them, removing the wet cloth from her forehead. With their help, Charlie managed to sit up leaning her back against the wall behind her. 

“Are you thirsty?” her grandmother asked.

‘“Desperately so,” Charlie replied. 

Her maid stepped over to a side table and picked up a pitcher, pouring her a glass of water. Charlie brought a hand up to accept the glass and she immediately regretted the action. Even her fingers seemed to hurt. Taking a drink, she handed the glass back. “Thank you,” she murmured.

Her grandmother gave her a kind smile. “Are you hungry?”

“I'm famished,” Charlie admitted.

“I'm not surprised. You've practically slept the day away.” Her grandmother smiled, letting her know she was teasing, before turning towards the maid. “Please have the doctor sent for.” 

“I don’t need a doctor,” Charlie insisted, but that didn't stop the maid from rushing out of the room to do her grandmother's bidding. Lady Strathearn didn’t appear convinced as her eyes inspected Charlie’s face. “I would feel more comfortable if we had the doctor examine you again.”

“Again?” Charlie asked.

“Yes, Doctor Porter was summoned right after you fell and Miles was insistent that he return this morning to check on you.”

Charlie frowned. “Is that so?”

“Miles has been worried sick about you. He spent most of the night in this very chair, watching over you,” she said. 

Charlie pressed her lips together. “How kind of him,” she said begrudgingly, being reasonably sure that it was her uncle who had shoved her down the stairs.

“Would it be possible for me to speak to Lord Monroe?” Charlie asked, fingering the collar of her nightgown.

Lady Matheson gave her a disapproving look. “It wouldn't be proper for Lord Monroe to visit you in your bedchamber. In a few days, you should be out of bed and you'll be able to speak to him in the drawing-room.”

“In a few days!” Charlie cried.

“Yes, you had quite the fall. Your body needs time to recover.” Lady Strathearn reached out, brushing her hair away from her face. “The doctor recommended you remain in bed for at least three days.”

Charlie shook her head. “I'm afraid I can't wait that long to speak to him.”

“Perhaps you could write him a letter. I’d be happy to deliver it,” her grandmother suggested. 

“Please, Grandmother,” she pleaded “it's incredibly important that I speak to Lord Monroe immediately.”

Lady Strathearn lifted her brow. “May I ask why you need to speak to him so urgently?”

Charlie lowered her eyes. She couldn’t very well tell her grandmother that she suspected Miles was trying to kill her. 

Her grandmother sighed. “I suppose I will allow it this one time, but only because I love you dearly.” Her grandmother leaned forward and kissed her on the head. “I’ll inform Lord Monroe that you wish to speak to him, but your maid will remain in the room to chaperone.”

Charlie smiled. “Thank you, Grandmother.”

Her grandmother turned towards the maid. “Lord Monroe will be up shortly and I would like you to chaperone.”

The maid curtsied. “Yes, Milady.”

Lady Strathearn turned her attention back to Charlie. “Miles will be so relieved to hear that you're finally awake.”

“May I ask where he is?”

“He's meeting with his steward in the village. He asked me to send word the moment you woke.”

Her grandmother gave her a tender smile. “I'll be back to check on you shortly. I'll send up your needlework to help occupy you,” she said just before leaving.

“May I get you something?” her maid asked.

“No. Thank you,” Charlie responded.

The maid nodded and walked over to a chair across the room picking up a piece of fabric and thread.

Charlie's eyes remained on the door while she waited for Bass to arrive. It seemed like hours but was probably only a few minutes at most when she finally heard booted footsteps outside her bedchamber.

Stepping into the room his frantic gaze met hers. She watched as he visibly relaxed and he made his way to the foot of her bed. “Miss Matheson, you're looking well.” 

Charlie smiled at him. “As are you, Lord Monroe.”

He returned her smile and Charlie felt her breath hitch. Oh, how she adored this man.

“How are you feeling?”

“Honestly, I hurt all over,” she replied.

“That's to be expected,” he remarked. “You did fall down the stairs.”

Her smile vanished as she glanced over at her maid. The woman had her head down and she appeared to be engaged in her needlework. Charlie waved Bass over and was pleased when he quickly closed the distance between them. “I didn't fall,” she said quietly. “Someone pushed me.”

Bass' brow’s shot up. “You were pushed?” he asked in a hushed voice. “Did you see who did it?”

“No. I was walking down the hall and someone came up from behind me.” Her gaze shifted to her maid and back before confessing, “I think it might have been Miles.”

Bass covered his mouth with his hand before asking, “Why would you even say that?” 

“Do I need to remind you that before my fall Miles was furious about me going to the constable and had been yelling at me in the library?” 

“That may be true, but it couldn’t have possibly been him. He’s your uncle. He loves you.”

“Who else could it have been, then?”

Bass sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. “I don't know.”

“Don’t forget that he left the library only moments before I did,” she reminded him. “He was most likely still in the hall.”

Bass shook his head. “I can’t believe Miles would have done such a thing.”

“Why not?”

“Because he's my friend.” 

“And he’s my uncle,” she countered.

Bass glanced over the open door. “If what you’re saying is true then you’re in danger here.”

Charlie grimaced. “I agree, which is why I intend to start sleeping with a pistol under my pillow.”

“I don't like this,” he hissed. 

Bass repositioned the chair so it was closer to the bed. “Miles is one of my dearest friends. I trust him with my life.”

“And I’ve never had a reason to question his loyalty, but who else could it have been?”

“Have you done anything to anger the household staff?”

Charlie shook her head. “Not that I can think of.”

“Perhaps you were mistaken and tripped over a carpet.”

Charlie’s lips pursed in angry disbelief. “I know the difference between tripping and being pushed.”

“Of course, my apologies,” he muttered.

“Until we know for certain that Miles was not behind this, I propose we use caution when we are around him.”

Bass shook his head once again. “This is Miles we’re talking about.”

“I know. I don't like it either.”

Bass’ eye lingered on her face. “You have a bruise on your cheek.”

“I do?” she asked, bringing her hand up.

He nodded. “It looks painful.”

“I’ll live,” she assured him

Bass smiled. “I'm glad for that.”

“The doctor recommends I stay in bed for at least three days,” she said, lowering her hand. 

“I would agree.”

“Well I don't,” she huffed. “I intend to be out of bed after supper.”

Bass chuckle. “Why am I not surprised?”

“At last we’re starting to see eye to eye.” 

“I’m not agreeing with you, I’m simply pointing out that you're quite stubborn.”

“Just stubborn? Not vexing?” she teased. 

“Perhaps a little of both,” he replied, his eye twinkling.

Charlie had to admit that she enjoyed this playful side of Bass, although she had come to love everything about him. 

“I have your supper, Miss Matheson,” a maid announced from the doorway. 

“I should let you eat,” Bass said, rising to his feet.

“Don't leave yet,” she said, surprising even herself. 

Bass arched a brow. “Careful now, it almost sounds as if you’ll miss me.”

“Hardly,” she replied primly, “however I would much rather talk to you than practicing my embroidery.”

Bass chuckle, tugging down his waistcoat. “Fair enough.”

“Will you come back to visit me?” she asked, keeping her eyes on him.

“Assuming that Lady Strathearn will allow it.”

“Perhaps we can play a card game?” she asked, her eyes bright. 

Bass gaze intensified. “I’m willing to play whatever game you're interested in playing, Charlotte,” he replied gruffly. 

Charlie watched as he departed from the room and wondered what he meant by that. It was evident he wasn't talking about playing cards. Maybe, just maybe, he was starting to develop feelings for her as well.

* * *

A furious Bass stood outside of Charlie’s door. He couldn't seem to process what she had told him.

Someone had pushed her down the stairs and she thought that person was Miles. 

While it made logical sense given recent events, he still has some reservations. He could hear Charlie speaking to her lady's maid and the sound of her voice warmed his heart. He had been so worried about her that he’d hardly slept a wink the night before.

He had been afraid as well. The thought of losing Charlie was too great for him to bear.

He would do whatever it took to keep her safe, but how could he accomplish that. It wasn't as if he could follow her around everywhere she went. Even if he could, she wouldn't let him.

Suddenly a thought came to him, a thought that he found didn't outright terrify him. 

He could marry her. 

If he married her then he would never have to leave her side again. Besides, he and Charlie did get along nicely, and he did care for the girl.

No.

It would never work. 

From her previous comments, he knew she would want to marry for love and he refused to trap her into a marriage of convenience. Besides, Bass wasn’t sure he wanted to love anyone. When you loved someone, it made you feel vulnerable and weak and he was not weak.

He had just passed the stairs when he heard Miles' voice drift up from the entry hall. Feeling his rage build up inside of him, Bass shifted his course and headed down the stairs. He walked right up to Miles as he was speaking to his steward and demanded to speak to him.

Miles gave him a curious look. “Can't it wait?”

“No,” Bass growled, grabbing Miles by the arm without waiting for a reply, and led Miles into the drawing-room before turning loose of him.

Miles frowned. “What’s the meaning of this!” 

Eyes narrowed, Bass took a step towards Miles. “Where were you when Charlie fell down the stairs.”

Miles frowned. “I was heading towards my bedchamber.”

“Can anyone verify your story?” Bass demanded.

Miles eyed him suspiciously. “Why would anyone need to verify my story?”

“Because Charlie didn't fall down the stairs. Someone pushed her,” he revealed. 

Miles paled. “She was pushed?”

“She was.”

“How do you know that?”

“She informed me in her bedchamber earlier.” 

“You were in her bedchamber?” Miles chided, his voice rising.

“Your mother gave me permission to speak to her and her lady maid chaperoned us.” 

“I need to go speak to her,” Miles said brushing by him. 

Bass reached out to grab Miles' arm. “I still have a few questions for you.”

“A few questions?” Miles asked in disbelief. “You don't think I did anything to do with Charlie falling down the stairs do you?”

Bass remained silent.

Miles' mouth dropped open. “How could you even think that?”

“I didn't know what to think,” he replied. “You came into the library, yelled at her, and then departed just moments before she did.”

“That was just a coincidence,” Miles argued. “After I left the library, I headed straight for my bedchamber. I had barely got through the door when I heard Charlie scream.”

“I want to believe you, but I'm afraid I can't.”

“Why is that?”

Bass took a step back. “Why were you so angry about Charlie tipping off the constable about the smugglers?” 

Miles glanced over at the open door and lowered his voice. “I had my reasons.”

“Which were?”

Miles' shoulders slumped. “I can't say.”

Bass considered him for a moment. “Then I will personally escort Charlie to London where she’ll reside with my mother for the foreseeable future.”

“You’re not taking Charlie away. I won't allow it.”

“I can and I will,” Bass replied. “I’ll do anything to keep Charlie safe, even if that means keeping her away from you.”

“I am not a threat to my niece!” Miles hissed.

“Aren't you?”

“How can you even suggest such a thing?”

“You're hiding something, Miles,” Bass said, stepping closer to his friend. “I just don't know what it is yet.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Don't insult me. I've known you for a long time.”

Miles glared back at him. “You need to stay out of it.”

Bass raised a brow. “Stay out of what?”

“Trust me, no good will come out of you discovering the truth.”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that.”

Miles shook his head. “You don't know what you're asking of me.”

Reaching out, Bass placed his hand on Miles' shoulder. ”Were friends, Miles. You can trust me.”

He watched the indecision cross Miles face and for a moment, Bass thought he was going to refuse his help. But then, Miles strode across the room and closed the door. 

“This has to stay between us,” he said in a stern voice.

“Of course.”

Miles walked over to the drink cart and poured himself a drink. “I know what these smugglers are capable of because I've seen them first hand.”

“How so?”

Miles took a sip of his drink. “Daniel came to me and confided that he believed smugglers were landing on our shores. Before we went to the constable we wanted proof, so we did exactly what you and Charlotte did. We scoured the shoreline at night. But we weren’t as lucky as you. The smugglers caught us spying.” 

“What happened?” Bass asked, coming to sit down on the settee next to his friend.

“They beat us to a bloody pulp and threatened to kill us if we went to the constable.”

“Then how did Daniel turn up dead?”

“Daniel was stubborn,” he replied, his hand gripping the glass, “and he did not take kindly to the smugglers telling him what to do.”

“Evidently stubbornness is a family trait,” Bass muttered.

“Yes, it most assuredly is,” Miles said. “Daniel planned to speak to the constable about them, but was killed the night before he planned to go into town.”

“Who knew that Daniel was going to the constable?”

“Just me,” Miles replied as he placed his glass back on the drink cart. 

Bass wasn't convinced. “He had to have told someone else.”

“I don't think so.”

“Then why didn't you go to the constable yourself?” Bass asked.

“Because the day Daniel died I discovered a note on my desk.”

“What did it say?”

“They threatened to kill Charlotte and my mother if I ever went to the constable. I was also instructed to leave two hundred and fifty pounds every three months in my hunting lodge or they would burn my estate to the ground.”

“You're being blackmailed.” 

Miles nodded. “I am, which is why I was so adamant that Charlie stay away from the smugglers. If I thought for even one moment that she would be able to find proof that the smugglers were coming ashore, I would have never made that blasted deal with her.”

“Why didn't you say anything earlier?”

“Why?” Miles asked. “There’s nothing you can do to help.” 

“But the smugglers have been caught and are awaiting trial.” 

“Surely you’re not so naive,” Miles scoffed. “Especially now, with Charlie being pushed down the stairs in our own home.” 

Bass sighed. “Do you have any idea who could have done such a thing?”

“None.” 

“Have you told anyone about the payments?”

“No.”

“Not even your man of business?”

Miles shook his head adamantly. “I’ve told no one.”

“Then how do you explain the loss of two hundred and fifty pounds every three months?”

“He thinks I withdraw the money to gamble.” 

Bass sat back in his seat. “Have you ever watched to see who comes to collect the money?”

“No. I couldn’t take the risk of Charlie or my mother being hurt.” 

“Were you the one who tipped off of smugglers that the constable would be going to the hunting lodge?” 

“I fully intended to but by the time I arrived they were already gone.”

“Do you know where they've gone?”

“No, and I don’t care to find out. “Frankly, I hope they’ve gone back to their ship somewhere far away from here.”

“What I don’t understand is why did you encourage Charlie to go to the constable In the first place?”

“What choice did I have?” he asked with a frown “She was determined to go. My refusal wouldn't have stopped her.”

“That’s true,” Bass agreed. 

Miles made his way over to the window. “As soon as Charlie can travel I intend to escort her and my mother to London. They’ll be safe there.”

“Why haven't you told them the truth?”

“And just how do you suppose I go about that? I doubt if my mother could take the truth that her grandson was murdered and her son is being blackmailed.”

“Perhaps. But Charlie has a right to know.”

Miles shook his head. “If I had told Charlie she would have single-handedly declared war on the smugglers and gotten herself killed.” 

“Your niece is more clever than you give her credit for.”

“That was never in question. I was simply trying to keep her alive.”

“I'm not saying you’re wrong. Just that she deserved to know.” 

“Ever since her brother died, Charlie has been obsessed with bringing the smugglers to justice. I can't even count how many hours she’s spent on the east lawn practicing her archery. There’s no way she would have accepted the truth and moved on.” 

Bass tilted his head. “I'm surprised that you can.”

“What choice do I have? I have no choice but to believe the smugglers have someone watching me at all times.” 

“And you have no idea who that can be?” 

“Whenever I’m in Sylvania, I spend the majority of my time with my steward,” he shared. 

“What about your butler?”

“No, he’s been with us since my father.”

“Who else has access to your family?” 

Miles shrugged. ‘“I’ve racked my brain and can’t figure it out.”

“Regardless, you can't keep going on as you have been. You need to take a stand.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Miles replied, crossing his arms. “If I went to the constable what's left of my family could be murdered and my estate burned to the ground. It isn't worth the risk.”

“So you intend to continue making payments to the smugglers?”

“I do,” Miles’ replied. “I hope that my continued payments will pacify them so they'll leave us alone.”

Bass shook his head. “That’s madness.”

“No that’s the only way to keep my mother and Charlie alive.” 

“Regardless, I still believe that you need to tell Charlie the truth.” 

“No, I don't,” Miles protested.

“Miles, she thinks you’re the one that pushed her.” 

“What?” Miles asked, running a hand through his hair. 

“She plans on sleeping with a pistol under her pillow to protect herself from you.” 

“Then I suppose I have no choice,” he replied. 

“I think it's for the best. Have you considered hiring a Bow Street Runner to invest?”

“I have, but was unsure of exactly how I would explain his presence.” 

“We need to lure this person out.” 

“And just how do you plan to accomplish that?”

“I have no idea,” Bass said, walking to the door, “but perhaps Charlie.” 

“Oh, I'm sure she’ll have plenty of ideas,” Miles muttered. 

Bass chuckled. “You know your niece well.”

  
  



	8. Chapter 8

Charlie was bored out of her mind sitting alone in her bedchamber. Tossing her blanket aside, she adjusted her nightgown. 

“May I get you something?” her maid asked from across the room. 

“No, thank you,” Charlie replied, swinging her feet over the side of the bed. 

“But Miss, you can’t be out of bed yet,” her maid insisted. 

“I’m perfectly fine,” Charlie replied. 

“Lady Strathearn will be furious.”

“There’s no need for my grandmother to know. I just want to walk over to the library to retrieve a book.” 

“I can fetch it for you, Miss.” 

“That's not necessary. I'm more than capable of walking,” Charlie replied. 

She was just pushing to her feet when Miles' voice boomed from the doorway. “Get back in that bed, Charlotte.” 

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“I'm well enough to get out of bed,” Charlie stubbornly insisted.

“No. You’re not,” Miles replied making his way towards her. “You took a nasty fall down the stairs. You're lucky to be alive.”

“Be that as it may, I’m bored.” 

“I don't care. The doctor ordered you to remain in bed for three days.”

“That's nonsense. I'm not an invalid,” Charlie said pushing to her feet.

“Maybe not, but you're being a horrible patient.”

“I'm well enough to be out of bed.”

“And I can see that you’re not,” he argued. 

They stood there staring daggers at one another until she heard someone clearing their throat. Shifting her gaze, she saw Bass standing in the hall.

Bass had an amused smile on his face. “Perhaps I can help with the boredom. I thought you might be interested in reading Gulliver's Travels,” he said, pulling the book out of his jacket.

“Thank you, that was extremely thoughtful of you,” Charlie said.

Miles took another step towards her and pointed to the bed. “Get back in bed.”

“All right,” she replied sitting back down on the edge of the bed. “You don't have to be so cranky about it.”

Bass stepped into the room and slowly approached her. “I hope you enjoy it,” he said, extending the book towards her.

She clutched the book to her chest. “Thank you, Sebastian.”

“You're welcome. It's a little too light-hearted for my taste, but I assumed you would enjoy it.”

“It's one of my favorites.”

“I'm not surprised,” he replied, “although I find his sense of humor to be inappropriate for a lady such as yourself.”

“Duly noted,” she replied, “but I'm afraid we must agree to disagree.”

Bass chuckled. “We usually do.”

“I’d like a moment alone with my niece and Lord Monroe if you please,” Miles requested of the maid.

The maid curtsied, slipping out of the room and closing the door behind her.

Miles turned back towards Charlie with a concerned expression on his face. “How are you feeling?”

“I'm well, truly,” Charlie replied, as she leaned back against the wall.

“I’m happy to hear that,” he said gruffly. 

“Are you?” she questioned.

“Of course I am,” he replied. “How can you even ask me that?” 

Charlie glanced over at Bass. “My apologies. I suppose I’m still out of sorts.” 

Miles sighed and took a seat at the end of her bed. “Bass said that you think I might have been the one who pushed you down the stairs.” 

Charlie gasped, her eyes flying to Bass. 

“You're thinking that I betrayed your trust,” Bass said, taking a step closer. 

Charlie stared at him, amazed at how perfectly he read her thoughts. 

“You need to hear him out, Charlie.”

She nodded. “If you think I should.”

“I do,” he replied.

Charlie tore her gaze away from Bass to look at Miles who was watching them with a knowing expression. “What is it you wanted to say?” 

Miles turned serious. “Charlie, I would never hurt you. I hope that you know that.” 

“Honestly, I don't know what to believe right now.”

Miles nodded. “That’s fair based on what I've put you through.”

“And just what exactly have you put me through?” she asked.

“The reason I've been so adamant about there being no smugglers on our shores is because I wanted to keep you out of danger. I wanted to protect you.”

“Are you saying you’ve known about the smugglers this whole time?” 

“I have, and I also know what they're capable of.”

“I know-”

“No, you don’t know,” he said over her. “You have no idea the treachery they’re involved in.”

“What does that mean?” Charlie demanded. 

“Daniel first came to me when he suspected smugglers were using our beaches to bring goods ashore. He told me that he had found a flurry of activity on the sand.”

“Why didn't he go to the constable?”

“Because Daniel wanted proof. He was afraid the Constable would otherwise dismiss his claims. So, he asked me for my help.” 

“You. Danny asked you to help search for the smugglers?”

“He did. However, we weren’t as good as you and Bass and we were caught.” 

“You were?” Charlie gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.

“They beat us, but fortunately spared our lives.” 

“Why didn't you go to the constable then?” Charlie cried. 

“Because they threatened to kill us if we did! Unfortunately, Daniel wouldn’t leave well enough alone.” Miles said avoiding her gaze. “He wanted revenge, much like you did. I told him that it was suicide to approach the smugglers again, but he didn't care. He wanted to prove that he wasn’t afraid of them.” He slowly brought his gaze back to hers, his eyes filled with unshed tears. “They killed him because of it.”

“Why didn't you tell me the truth?”

“I couldn't. The smugglers threatened to kill you and your grandmother if I ever went to the constable.

“You're being blackmailed?” 

“I am.”

“But how would the smugglers ever know that it was you who tipped off the constable?”

“Because someone’s watching me,” he revealed. “I'm most probably being blackmailed by someone that I employ.”

“Is there anyone that you suspect?”

Miles shook his head. “I employ nearly thirty people here at the estate. It could be a maid, a footman, or someone from the kitchen staff. The list of suspects is overwhelming.”

Charlie bit at her lip. “We still need to go to the constable.”

Miles jumped up from the bed. “Are you mad? Didn't you hear what I just told you? If I go to the constable we’re all at risk.”

“Aren't we already at risk?” Charlie asked.

Miles began to pace. “This is why I didn't tell you,” he said. “There's nothing we can do about our current situation.”

Charlie lifted a brow. “I disagree.”

Miles stopped pacing long enough to look at her in disbelief. “What would you have me do?”

“We set a trap for whoever is watching you,” Charlie declared, leaning forward on the bed. 

“How do you propose to do that?” Bass asked. 

Miles looked between the two of them. “You can’t possibly be serious? They’ve already brazenly shoved you down the stairs. Next time they might actually kill you. That’s why I was so angry with you for going to the constable.” 

Taking a deep breath, he sat back down on the bed. “We need to get you and your grandmother to London where you’ll be safe.”

“By all means take grandmother to London with you. I, however, will not give in to their demands so easily.”

“Then I shall have no choice but to lock you in your bedchamber until we depart,” Miles threatened. 

“I’ll simply climb out the window.” 

“I’ll board up your windows.” 

Charlie gave him a smug smile. “I'll find a way to sneak out.”

Miles huffed as he yanked at his hair. “I have no doubt. You’re just as foolhardy as your brother and I can't protect that kind of stupid.”

“I'm not stupid,” Charlie frowned. 

“Well, your actions suggest otherwise,” Miles replied. “You should have just left well enough alone.” 

“You know I couldn’t do that.”

“I don’t think that insulting Charlie is going to do anyone any good,” Bass said, moving closer to the bed. “Why don’t we hear what her plan is?”

Miles rolled his eyes. “Fine. What asinine plan are you formulating in your head?”

Charlie ignored him, turning to Bass. “I propose that you and Miles speak at great length about how I'm going to the constable to report that someone pushed me down the stairs. Hopefully, the person overhears you and decides to take action.”

“Bloody hell!” Miles shouted. “You want to use yourself as bait?”

“Exactly,” she beamed. “Since I'm a woman, they’ll underestimate my abilities and won’t expect me to fight back.” 

“Absolutely not!” Miles exclaimed, pushing to his feet. “It’s much too risky. We have no idea when this person will attack you.”

“Then I’ll simply need to be on guard at all times. I'm already sleeping with my pistol under my pillow.”

Miles ran a hand over his face. “I refuse to be a part of this,” he declared.

“But you must,” Charlie insisted. “That's the only way we can catch this person.”

“I can't, knowing that this plan, and I use that term loosely, might kill you.” Miles turned his gaze towards Bass, “Why aren’t you fighting her on this?” 

Bass ran a finger over his lips before speaking. “I find that I agree with Charlie.” 

Miles' jaw dropped. “You what?”

“You can't continue with the way things are now,” Bass said. “Plus, I think the person blackmailing you intends to kill Charlie regardless. This way, we're forcing them to play by our rules.”

“You're both insane,” Miles declared.

* * *

“She’s stark raving mad,” Miles muttered as they left Charlie’s room.

Bass chuckled as he followed Miles down the hall towards his study. “She seemed rather sane to me.” 

“No, she's going to get herself killed if she keeps insisting that we go to the constable.”

Bass shrugged. “I think her plan had merit.”

“No, her plan is foolhardy and reckless,” Miles said, stepping into his study. He headed straight for the drink cart. “Would you care for a drink?” 

“Yes, please,” Bass answered, watching as Miles removed the stopper from the decanter and poured two glasses of whiskey, offering one to Bass.

“This is the first time I've seen you drink in several days,” Miles commented. 

Bass accepted the glass. “I find I don't no longer need it.” 

Miles tilted his head in curiosity. “Why is that?”

“Because I'm no longer miserable.”

Miles brought the glass to his lips. “Is it because of my niece?” he asked knowingly.

Bass nodded. “She’s helped me find clarity and peace.” 

“That's good,” Miles replied, “because your previous outlook on life was disparaging at best.”

“I can’t argue with you there,” Bass said as he walked over and sat down in an armchair. “I'm beginning to see things differently,” he explained. “My disability doesn’t define who I am.”

“You only lost sight in one eye,” Miles huffed. “It's not as if you’re a cripple.”

“But I still feel that way.” 

“No one else looks at you that way,” Miles replied. 

Bass took a sip of his drink. “I have to disagree. I've seen the pitying glances and disgust in their eyes.” 

“I think you might be imagining it.”

“Maybe,” he conceded, “but I've never seen pity or disgust in Charlie’s eyes. I've only seen acceptance. She's unlike any other woman I've ever known.”

Miles glanced over at the open door. “Then why are you going along with this idiotic plan? She wants to go to the constable and risk everything that I hold dear.”

“It's not as if you can stop her,” Bass argued. 

“I could lock her in her bedchamber.”

Bass laughed. “She’ll simply find a way out.” 

Miles' lips flattened before taking a sip of his drink. “This isn’t a laughing matter.”   


“If Charlie goes to the constable then he’ll come and investigate the household staff,” Bass remarked. “That isn't necessarily a bad thing.” 

“But what if the constable doesn't find whoever is responsible for pushing Charlie down the stairs?”

“Then she at least tried.”

Miles sighed. “I just want to put Charlie and my mother into a couch and send them off to London.”

“Charlie won't go willingly. Not before seeing the constable, anyway.”

Miles tossed back the rest of his drink. “Why does she have to be the most contrary woman in all of England?”

“I've asked that very thing, only I used the words vexing and infuriating.” 

“Both are accurate,” he said with a grimace. 

“Now that we have a moment alone,” Miles said as he made his way back to the drink cart, “I've been meaning to ask you what your intentions are towards my niece.”

“Pardon?” Bass asked, hoping he’d misheard. 

“Your intentions,” Miles repeated, as he uncapped the decanter. 

Bloody hell. 

Bass grimaced. “I don't have any intentions towards your niece.”

Miles slowly poured his drink as the silence in the room became unnerving. Setting the decanter down, he slowly turned towards him. “Do you expect me to believe that?”

“I may have invited her to go riding in Hyde Park when we return to London.”

“I see.”

“No, I don’t think you do see,” Bass replied. “We would go riding in Hyde Park strictly as friends.”

“As friends?” Miles asked in amused disbelief. 

“Yes, that's what I said, isn't it?”

Miles took a sip of a drink. “I know you care for Charlie.”

“I do, very much.”

“Then why don't you offer for her?”

Bass’ brow shot up. “I couldn't possibly.” 

“Why not?”

“For many reasons,” he ground out. 

Miles' eyes narrowed. “Name one.”

“Charlotte wants to marry for love,” he shared with his friend.

Miles leaned his hip against the nearby settee. “That shouldn’t be a problem since you already love her.”

Bass's lips parted in disbelief. “I do not.”

“Oh, come on, Bass,” Miles said. “I've seen the way you and Charlie look at each other. It’s rather sickening, actually.”

“I think that you need spectacles,” Bass quipped.

Miles brought the glass up to his lips.”All right, what’s another reason?”

Bass looked away from Miles. “I don't deserve her.”

“Why do you say that?”

Bass tossed up his hands “I have nothing to offer her.”

Miles gave him a pointed look. “You have yourself.”

“That's not good enough,” he replied. “Now that I’ve been discharged, I refuse to let my father finance my household. So, until he passes, I won't be able to support her in the way she's accustomed to.”

Miles pushed away from the settee. “You seem to forget that Charlie is an heiress.”

“I will not marry her for her money!” he exclaimed. 

“Good,” his friend replied. “If I even suspected that was the case and I would have never introduced you to her.”

Bass dropped his head back against his chair. “None of this matters, because Charlie doesn't love me.”

Miles snorted, taking the seat next to Bass’. “I can assure you that my niece has very deep feelings for you.”

Bass lifted his head to look at Miles. “Do you really believe that?”

Miles nodded. “I do.”

Hope swelled in Bass’ heart at that unexpected news. Could Charlie actually care for him? Possibly even love him?

Miles' encouraging voice broke through his musings. “I recommend that you offer for her before we leave for London.”

“Why?” Bass asked, his head still reeling. 

“Because I doubt if Charlie will have a shortage of suitors once she arrives.” 

Bass had to admit that his friend had a point and he found his mood dampened at the thought. 

“I see that look in your eye,” Miles said. “You're contemplating it, aren't you?”

Bass shook his head. “I'm not worthy of your niece, Miles.”

“Oh, I wholeheartedly agree,” Miles replied, placing his empty glass on the table between them. “No one’s good enough for her,” he smirked. “But I wouldn't mind having you in the family.”

“I'll think about it,” Bass told his friend.

Miles clapped his shoulder. “Good enough.”


	9. Chapter 9

Charlie woke suddenly for no reason and lay there quietly. Her windows were open and a gentle breeze played with the curtains. 

The only light was from the moon, streaming through the windows, casting shadows around the room. An eerie silence descended causing her to shiver.

Sitting up, she looked around the room, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Her hand slipped under her pillow to skim over her pistol and dagger. 

“Is someone there?” she asked, silently hoping that no one answered. 

The shadowy form of a man emerged from behind one of the curtains holding a pistol in her direction. “If you scream, I will shoot,” he said in a hushed voice. 

Charlie felt like smiling at this small victory. The man had come to her bedchamber just as she had planned. 

“What are you doing in my room?” she demanded

“I'm here to give you a warning,” he said, keeping his face hidden behind the curtain. “If you insist on going to the constable, I’ll have no choice but to kill you.”

“Just me?”

“Pardon?”

“Aren't you going to threaten to kill my uncle and grandmother as well?”

The man huffed. “You’re certainly an impertinent little thing.”

“Trust me, I've been called worse,” Charlie replied dryly.

The man made an annoyed noise. “Go to London and stay there or else,” he warned.

“Or else what?”

The man cocked his pistol. “Or else you're a dead woman.”

“Um, excuse me! I have a question, please,” Charlie called out. 

“What?” the man hissed over his shoulder. 

“Are you the one who killed Daniel?”

“Yes,” he growled. 

“But why?”

“Because he discovered my identity.”

“So you killed him?” Charlie asked in disbelief. 

“Yes.”

“Well that was a bit harsh, don't you think?” she snapped.

The man pointed his gun at her once again. “That’s enough! Consider yourself lucky to be alive. That fall down the stairs should have killed you.”

Charlie lifted her chin. “I’m tougher than I look.”

“Clearly,” the man remarked, trying to take his leave once again. 

“This is my home,” she called out after him, “and I won’t stop going after the smugglers until every last one of them is arrested.” 

The man’s head fell as he hauled himself back inside. “Then I have no choice but to kill you.”

“Must you?” Charlie mocked.

The man pushed the curtains away and stepped forward. As the moonlight hit the man's balding head; she recognized him as Miles' steward.

Charlie gasped. “Mr. Horn?”

A smile twisted his lips. “Miss Matheson.” 

“How could you betray my Uncle?” she asked. “He considers you a friend.”

Horn shook his head. “No, he treats me like the help.”

“He lets you live at our estate.” 

“Only so he can work me harder. Your father was no different.”

Charlie’s lips parted in disbelief. “I don't understand how you could kill Danny.”

“He confided to me that he thought smugglers were coming ashore and I tried to convince him otherwise but he refused to listen to me.”

“So you killed him?”

Mr. Horn waved the gun towards her once again. “The night he died, Daniel confronted the smugglers and attempted to arrest them. He was so preoccupied with them that he didn't realize I had come up behind him.”

“So you shot him in the back?”

“Please,” Mr. Horn scoffed. “I wanted my face to be the last thing Daniel saw before he died.”

“How could you be so cruel?” she asked. 

Mr. Horn took a step closer to the bed keeping his pistol steady. “You should probably know that Daniel begged for his life. He said he couldn't die because of you,” he smirked.

“But you killed him anyway.”

“Of course,” he scoffed. “I knocked him unconscious and tossed him into the water.”

“You're a monster!” Charlie cried.

“No, what I am is a wealthy man. I grew tired of watching men like your father and uncle getting rich while paying me such a small wage. I've been working with the smugglers for years and no one was wiser until Daniel caught on. It was his fault that he died. He just couldn't leave well enough alone.

You may have succeeded in getting the smugglers arrested but in time another band will use these shores and when they do, I’ll be waiting for them and I’ll continue to get rich off them.” 

“I hope they kill you.”

Mr. Horn laughed. “They wouldn't dare. Without me, they wouldn't have the means to be profitable.” 

“You're the one blackmailing Miles.”

“I am,” he boasted proudly. “It was a brilliant idea on my part. I knew your uncle would go along with it since he wouldn't dare risking you or his mother's life. He’s so predictable.”

Charlie slid her hand back to retrieve her pistol from under her pillow “You won't get away with this.”

Mr. Horn chuckled. “I already have.”

Charlie pulled out her pistol and pointed it at him. “Actually, you haven’t.”

The steward looked amused as he stepped forward. “You won’t shoot me. Miss Matheson.”

“Yes, I will,” she said, gripping the pistol tighter.

Walking to the side of the bed, Mr. Horn kept his pistol leveled at her. “You don't have the courage to take another's life.”

“Yes, I do,” Charlie proclaimed as she tried to keep her hand from shaking

“No, you don't. Especially if that person is unarmed.”

Charlie looked puzzled. “But you are armed.”

Mr. Horn made a show of placing his pistol on her side table. “Not anymore.”

Charlie kept her gun aimed at his chest. “It doesn't matter. I intend to arrest you for the murder of my brother.”

“It will be your word against mine, and you're just a woman. Your word doesn't mean much.”

“The constable will believe me.” 

Horn gave her a pitying look. “Don’t you know that most of the villagers think that you're eccentric?” he asked as he picked up a pillow and held it in front of him.

Before she could reply, he lunged for her, shoving the pillow in her face causing her to fall back against the bed. 

Charlie attempted to fight out of his hold but she wasn't strong enough. 

She couldn't breathe. 

No matter what she did, she couldn't get him to release the pressure on the pillow and she was getting weaker by the moment. 

Just as she was about to lose consciousness, she heard a gunshot, and almost instantly, the pressure of the pillow lessened around her face. She grabbed it, tossing it away.

Gulping in fresh air, she saw Bass standing by the open armoire. He was holding a smoking pistol in his hand and it was pointed at Mr. Horns back. 

“Are you alright, Charlotte?” Bass asked, never taking his eyes off the other man.

“Yes,” she gasped, “I am.”

“Thank God,” he sighed. 

Charlie looked back at Mr.Horn. He was staring at her with wide eyes and a red stain that was rapidly covering his white waistcoat. He wobbled on his feet as he took a step back.

The door to her bedchamber flew open as Miles and the constable stormed in with pistols drawn. 

“Horn?” Miles questioned. “You were the one blackmailing me?”

Blood trickled out of Horn’s mouth as he started laughing. “You're such a fool. You never even suspected that it was me.” 

“But why?”

“For the money of course. I daresay I might be richer than you.”

Miles shook his head. “It won't make a difference where you're going,” he said as Horn dropped to his knees. They watched as his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fell face forward on the floor.

Charlie's eyes flew to Bass and the next thing she knew she was wrapped up in his arms.

“Are you sure you're alright?'' he asked, kissing the top of her head.

“I am, I am,” she breathed, reassuring him. 

He leaned back to cup her face in his hands. “Why didn’t you scream?” he demanded. “You were supposed to scream when you were in danger, that was the plan.” 

“I know but he took me by surprise,” she explained, leaning into him. “He tried to smother me with a pillow.”

“Why did I let you talk me into hiding in your armoire? I could have hidden under the bed and stopped him from attacking you in the first place.”

“I know, but I had questions I needed answered. I was afraid you would intervene too soon.”

“I was so scared as when I saw Horn smothering you with that pillow,” he said, his voice low. “I thought I'd lost you.”

“You could never lose me,” she murmured, looking up at him.

“Do you promise?” he asked with a hint of a smile.

“I promise.”

Miles turned towards Bass. “Do I need to point out that we’re not alone, Lord Monroe?” 

Bass lowered his hands but remained close. “Will you be alright for the rest of the evening?”

She gave him a reassuring nod. “I’ll sleep in one of the guest chambers.”

Miles stepped closer to them and growled, “Thank you for consoling my niece, Lord Monroe, but it is time for you to leave her bedchamber. Unless of course, you want to be forced into a marriage.”

Charlie looked over the men’s shoulders to see the alarmed faces of maids and footmen as they peered into the room trying to catch a glimpse of Horn’s body.

“I shall see you tomorrow, Miss Matheson,” Bass said as he rose from the bed.

“Goodnight, Lord Monroe.”

Suddenly, Lady Strathearn’s concerned voice came from the doorway. “Good heavens! Why is there a dead body in Charlotte's bedchamber!”

Miles approached his mother. “Why don't we adjourn to your bedchamber and discuss this matter.”

Lady Strathern’s eyes focused on the dead body. “Perhaps that might be best. Charlotte, are you coming?” 

“Yes, Grandmother,'' she said, rising from the bed. 

The constable stood next to Horn’s body. “I shall need to speak to everyone involved, including Miss Matheson, but I’d like to start with Lords Matheson and Monroe.”

As Charlotte walked by Bass, he leaned in and whispered, “You did well tonight. I'm proud of you.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, trailing after her grandmother.

* * *

The following morning, Bass was sitting at the dining table with the paper in his hands. He was reading about the war with Napoleon since he couldn't find a single article about the skirmish in America.

He looked up when the door opened to discover Charlie walking into the room. She wore an alluring pale blue gown and her hair was piled high on top of her head. 

“What do you think you're doing?” he asked, lowering the paper, as she walked over to the buffet table and picked up a plate. 

“What does it look like?” She asked over her shoulder. “I’m having breakfast.”

“Aren't you supposed to be in bed for another two days?”

Charlie made a face. “That doctor is a quack.”

“Excuse me?”

Holding her plate in her hand, Charlie walked over to the dining table. “My body doesn't ache anymore and I find that I’m well enough to be out of bed.”

A footman held out a chair for her and she sat down across from him. “Besides, I get dreadfully bored when confined to my bedchamber.”

Bass folded his paper and laid it on the table, giving her his full attention. “I’m glad that you're well enough to be out of bed, although I imagine Lady Strathearn and Miles won’t be as pleased.” 

“I have no doubt,” she replied, reaching for her napkin. “Grandmother was in hysterics last night when Miles explained all about the smugglers and Mr. Horn’s role in Daniel’s death.”

“I can only imagine,” Bass replied, glancing at the row of footmen before asking in a hushed voice. “How are you faring?”

“I’m well,” she assured him.

Bass knew that dismissive tone all too well and eyeing her  speculatively , decided to press the matter. “Watching someone die in front of you can be devastating.” 

He watched as Charlie lowered her eyes to her lap. 

He leaned closer. “I am always here for you, Charlotte. I have been in your shoes and I know the heartache associated with it.” 

Charlie lifted her head to meet his gaze.

“After the constable left last night, I found I couldn't sleep,'' she shared. “Every time I closed my eyes, I imagined that Mr. Horn was standing over me with a pillow.”

“I'm sorry to say that you'll have those nightmares for many months to come.”

Charlie sighed 

“It will get better,” he assured her. 

“I must admit that I’m grateful I didn’t shoot the man.”

“Taking someone's life should never be done lightly, but I had no choice. He was trying to kill you.”

“Thank you for saving my life.”

“It was my pleasure.”

Charlie took a sip of her tea before asking. “Do you consider me eccentric?”

Bass frowned. “Where did that come from?”

“Last night, Mr. Horn told me that the entire village thinks I’m eccentric.”

“Why would you believe a person that tried to kill you?”

“I don’t-I just-nevermind.”

Rising from his seat, Bass walked around the table and pulled out the seat next to her. “Look at me, Charlotte.”

He waited for her to lift her eyes before he continued. “You are a unique young woman who brightens the lives of everyone around her. You're very special and I don't ever want you to forget that.”

Charlie smiled at him softly. “Thank you, Bass. Without you, none of this would have been possible.”

“Perhaps, but I believe we helped each other. I helped you track down the smugglers and you helped me change my perspective on life.”

“I’m glad that I was able to help you,” she managed to get out before being interrupted by Miles’ voice.

“What are you doing out of bed, Charlotte?” He demanded as he walked into the room.

“I had no desire to spend one more minute in bed,” she told him.

“But the doctor said-”

“That doctor is a quack,” she declared once more. “I believe my actions last night prove I’m well enough to be out of bed.”

Miles huffed. “Fine, but I insist you take a nap later today.”

“If you insist,” Charlie smiled.

Miles shook his head as he stepped towards the buffet. “If you're feeling well enough, perhaps we can depart for London tomorrow.”

“Do I still have to go?” Charlie whined.

“We had a deal, besides, Mother is already planning your ball.”

Charlie pouted which tore at Bass’ heartstrings. He shifted in his seat. “London isn't all that bad. We could go riding in Hyde Park and attend the theatre together.” 

“I’ve never been riding in Hyde Park before,” she admitted. 

“Have you ever been to London?”

“When I was little I would go with my parents every season.”

“Perhaps we could go to the Royal Menagerie.”

Charlie bobbed her head. “I would like that very much.”

Miles finally finished filling his plate and came to sit down at the head of the table. “I’ll let the butler know that we’ll be departing tomorrow morning.”   
  


“How long will we be there?” Charlie asked.

“For the rest of the season,” Miles replied, picking up his teacup.

“Would you care to go riding with me today?” Charlie asked Bass.

Bass eyed her in concern. “Are you sure you’re up to it?”

“I am,” Charlie reminded him, “plus I'd like to show you something before we leave Sylvania.”

“What?” he asked curiously.

Charlie smiled, “It's a surprise.”

“A woman of intrigue, interesting.”

She laughed as he hoped she would.

Miles glanced between them. “Will you be remaining on our lands?”

“Yes, Uncle.”

“Please be on guard. Just because the immediate threat is gone doesn't mean there’s still not a danger.”

“Of course.” Wiping her mouth with her napkin, Charlie laid it on her empty plate. “I'll just go change then we can depart for the stables.”

Miles and Bass rose from their seats.

Bass watched her leave the room, his gaze remaining on the door where she had just disappeared. He was curious as to what she wanted to show him.

Miles cleared his throat getting his attention. “Are you going to offer for her before we leave for London?”

“I am not.”

“Do you not love her?”

“Love?” Bass sputtered, “Who said I love the girl?”

“You didn't have to,” Miles said dryly. “It's written all over your face.”

Bass scoffed. “I couldn't possibly love Charlie.” 

Miles arched a brow. “And just why not?”

Bass’ mouth opened and closed a few times before finally snapping shut. 

Miles chuckled. “I had a feeling you and my niece would suit. That's why I was insistent you come to Sylvania.”

“You did?”

Miles nodded. “I thought you two could somehow help each other.” 

“You were right,” Bass conceded.

“I’m glad. Now, I can only hope that you truly consider what you want out of life.”

“And you think Charlie should be a part of that life?”

“I do,'' Miles replied, “Don’t you?”

As Bass watched Miles leave, he found himself thinking about how he felt for Charlie. He cared for her immensely and loved watching her smile and hearing her laugh. He didn't think he would ever tire of being in her presence. In a very short time, she had become the most important person in his life. He wanted to protect her and he needed her to be happy. 

It was undeniable. He loved Charlie.

The question was, what was he going to do about it. 

* * *

As they approached her home, Charlie slowed her horse to a stop to enjoy the view.

“You look happy,” Bass said, coming up beside her.

“I am. I have wonderful memories of riding here with Daniel.”

They sat in silence for a few moments before her horse began to paw at the ground. “Would you like to take a tour of my estate?”

“I'd be honored,” Bass replied.

“Follow me then,” she said urging her horse into a run. She didn’t rein in until she arrived at the courtyard in front of the manor, sliding off the horse as she held onto the reins. A footman came out the front door and retrieved their horses from them.

Her butler stepped out into the courtyard. “Welcome home, Miss Matheson.”

“Thank you, Clarkson. It’s good to be here.”

“Would you care for some refreshment?”

“Perhaps later. I want to give Lord Monroe a tour of the manor.”

The butler tipped his head. “As you wish.”

Charlie led Bass into the entry hall, breathing in the familiar scent of her home. Her eyes ran the length of the large wooden staircase that ran along the north side of the hall up to the second level.

“It’s exquisite,” Bass commented as he gazed down at her. 

Charlie found her eyes darting towards his lips and felt herself begin to blush. “Would you care to continue the tour?” She asked, turning away.

“I would,” Bass replied, extending his arm.

Charlie placed her hand in the crook of his arm and led him on a tour of the first level, ending in the library. “I apologize for the appearance,” she said, looking around at all the furniture draped in white sheets.

“The room is perfect,” Bass assured her as he stepped over to inspect the shelves. “You have an impressive collection.”

“I do,” she replied proudly. “Some of these have been in my family for generations.”

Turning to look at her, Bass met her gaze, and for a brief moment and she thought she detected a look of longing in his eye.

“I have never met a woman as resilient as you, Charlotte.”

Feeling suddenly shy, Charlie lowered her gaze. “I can't imagine that’s true.”

“You are uniquely beautiful, inside and out,” he insisted, taking a step closer to her. “I would be a fool to let you go.”

Her eyes flew to his. “What are you saying?”

“Charlotte, I've enjoyed spending time with you and I'm hoping that you feel the same way.” He couldn’t help but smile at her sudden blush.

“I have,” she assured him.

“Well, then, I was hoping that you would do me the great honor of allowing me to court you.” 

Charlie’s smile was radiant. “I would love that, Sebastian.”

Closing the distance between them Bass cupped her cheek. “I love you, Charlotte.”

“I love you as well, Sebastian,” she said, a mere whisper against his lips.

“Does this mean you’ll marry me?”

Charlie nodded, her eyes sparkling, “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

* * *

6 years later

“Is my eye patch crooked, Father?”

Bass crouched down next to his five-year-old son.

“Allow me to fix that for you, Danny,” he said, reaching out to adjust the eye patch over the boy's left eye.

“Now I look just like you,” Danny said.

“That you do,” Bass replied, amused with his son's antics.

His son scrunched his nose. “I can't see anything out of my left eye”

Bass silently snorted. “That’s the point of an eye patch.”

“How can you stand wearing it all the time?”

“I've gotten used to it.”

“Do you want to play pirates with me?” Danny asked, picking his sword up off the floor. 

“Very much so, but I still have work to do,” Bass said, waving his hand over the desk that was piled high with ledgers.

“That doesn’t look fun.”

Bass picked up a ledger from the desk. “I disagree. I find great enjoyment in it.”

Danny didn’t appear convinced as he glanced down and at the boo k. “I would much rather be a pirate.”

“Perhaps Bash would want to play pirates with you,” Bass suggested, lowering the ledger to his desk

Danny swiped his sword in the air. “Bash isn’t very much fun. He just follows me around and hits me with his sword.”

“Well, Bash is only three,” his father pointed out.

“Can I have a cutlass?'' his son suddenly asked.

“Absolutely not,” Bass replied.

“What about a pistol?”

Bass furrowed his brows. “Why would you need a pistol?”

“Everyone knows that pirates carry cutlasses and pistols in their trousers,” the boy explained. “How can I fight with a wooden sword?”

“I think you manage for now,'' Bass replied, holding back a smile. “Perhaps when you're older.”

“How old were you when you got a real sword?”

“I was fourteen. I was given one when I became a midshipman for the Royal Navy.”

“Can I join the Royal Navy?”

“You can, but who would take care of our estate?”

Danny tilted his head looking like a miniature of his mother. “You would, Father.”

“That’s true for now, but one day, this estate will belong to you.”

“Truly?”

Bass nodded. “But it comes with great responsibility.”

“I can handle it,” Danny replied, “and I’ll make sure no smugglers come to our shores ever again,” he said, brandishing his sword.

“I know you won’t.”

“Will you tell me the story of how you stopped a band of smugglers from coming ashore?

Bass leaned back against his desk. “It was a dark and stormy night and I was walking the shoreline, -”

“By yourself? What about mother?” his son interrupted.

“Of course I was by myself. Your mother was home, tucked safely into bed.”

Danny nodded.

“In the distance, I saw rowboats coming to shore. So, I pulled out my sword-”

“I don’t recall you having a sword that evening,” Charlie’s amused voice said from the doorway.

Bass smiled. “I may have changed a few details.”

“A few?” she asked.

Danny glanced between them. “Mother told me that she also helped with the band of smugglers.”

Bass shook his head. “Your mother was too busy with her embroidering.”

Danny giggled. “Mother hates needlework. Everyone knows that.”

“That’s true,” Bass replied.

Charlie walked into the room. “You need to change, or we’ll be late for the dinner party at Miles’.”

“Can I go, Mother?” Danny pleaded.

“No, you have to stay behind with Bash.”

“But I want to see Uncle Miles,” he pouted.

“If you hurry, the cook might still have some biscuits.”

“Oh, I love biscuits,” Danny said, his eyes lighting up as he ran out of the room.

Bass walked over to his wife, placing an arm around her waist. “You look especially lovely this evening.”

“Thank you,” she murmured. “I have some news that might be pleasing to you.”

“Oh, what is that?” he asked.

Taking one of his hands, Charlie placed it on her stomach.

Bass looked from her face to her stomach and back again.

“Are you upset?” she asked, as he remained quiet. 

“No, no, of course not,” he stammered. “Are you sure?”

“I'm sure.”

A wide smile broke out over his face. “Just when I thought I couldn't love you anymore, you prove me wrong.”

“You had me worried for a moment,” she admitted.

Bass cupped her cheek. “There's nothing you could do that would ever displease me.”

Charlie snorted. “I know for a fact that’s a lie.”

Bass smiled. “Fair enough, but I’m overjoyed about this. Maybe this time it will be a girl.”

“Maybe,” Charlie replied, gazing up at him.

“Please don’t ever leave me,'' he breathed.

Charlie pressed her lips gently against his. “Why would I ever leave you? Everything I could ever want is right here.”

~end

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I can't remember which eye Bass lost partial vision in. So, I guessed. If I'm wrong and it bothers you, feel free to let me know. :)


End file.
